Repressed Memories
by Sparkle731
Summary: While investigating the brutal murder of a fellow officer, Starsky begins to suspect a connection to his own father's murder over twenty years ago. This is a story that I wrote some time ago but part of it is being rewritten.
1. Chapter 1

**REPRESSED MEMORIES**

**While investigating the brutal murder of a fellow officer, Starsky begins to suspect a connection to his own father's murder over twenty years ago.**

_**Repressed Memory: a significant memory loss usually related to a traumatic nature. Repressed memories can sometimes be recovered years or decades after the event, most often spontaneously, triggered by a particular smell, taste or other trigger related to the lost memory.**_

**CHAPTER 1**

"Shots fired. Officer down. 3387 North Mellowdale Drive." The dispatcher said. The clipped tone of her voice spoke volumes to the officers that responded. It was the type of call that every officer answered automatically and the one they all dreaded. It meant that one of their own was hurt.

Detective Kenneth Hutchinson reached for the mike and pressed the transmit button. "This is Zebra three. We are in the area and responding. ETA seven minutes." His partner, Detective David Starsky, stomped on the accelerator, simultaneously flicking the switch to activate the siren. Hutch slapped the red bubble light on the roof as the car picked up speed.

When they arrived at the address two black and white units were already at the scene. Two uniformed officers were holding back curious neighbors who had heard the sound of gunshots echoing through their normally peaceful neighborhood.

The car came to a stop with a jolt that almost threw Hutch into the dash. The two detectives jumped out of the car and hurried towards the scene of the shooting.

As they walked across the well-kept lawn, they could see a man lying face near the front stoop of the modest home. A frantic woman stood on the stoop with her arms wrapped tightly around two young boys. All three of them were crying, their ordinary lives suddenly shattered in a matter of minutes.

Starsky and Hutch turned their attention to the victim lying at their feet. Neither of them recognized him but that didn't mean that they didn't feel a natural kinship with the fallen officer. Every man present knew that it could just as easily have been one of them that had been gunned down. It was a fact of life that every man and woman who pinned on the badge accepted as a natural hazard of their chosen profession.

A uniformed officer who had been guarding the body glanced at the two detectives and said somberly, "His name was Jim Tanner. He worked out of the twenty-second precinct. He just got off duty. According to his wife he was shot by someone in a dark blue sedan. She didn't get the license number and she can't describe the shooter. It all happened too fast." He looked over at the grieving family and added, "The two boys saw it happen."

Hutch stole a glance at his partner, automatically noting the tight set of Starsky's mouth. He knew that it was going to be a difficult for Starsky to remain objective. The brunet's own father had been gunned down under similar circumstances when Starsky was twelve years old. The emotional scars from that event ran deep in the brunet's psyche. Hutch felt the instinctive need to reach out for his partner but he restrained from acting on that impulse. This wasn't the time or the place.

The two friends exchanged a simple glance and, without a word, they walked over to the woman and her two sons. Hutch spoke first. "Mrs. Tanner, I'm Detective Hutchinson and this is my partner, Detective Starsky. You have our deepest sympathy for your loss." He kept his voice soft and gentle recognizing the vulnerable, fragile look in the young woman's eyes. She was barely holding it together. "Can you tell us exactly what happened?"

"Jim had just got home from work." She said in a voice that was so soft Hutch could barely hear the words. "The boys ran out the front door to meet him…just like they always do." She choked back a sob and took a minute to compose herself before continuing. "I saw the car coming down the street but I didn't think anything about it. Then I saw the gun and heard the shots." She paused again and closed her eyes for a moment, reliving the moment that was forever branded in her mind. "Jim never made a sound, he just fell to the ground and the car took off down the street." She opened her eyes and looked at Hutch, her face so full of pain that it tugged at his heart. "It all happened so fast. I never saw the man's face…just a glimpse of the gun."

"He shot my daddy!" the oldest boy spoke up, his blue eyes flashing with grief and anger. "Why did he shoot my daddy?" He appeared to be around ten years old and already grown up far beyond his years.

"I don't know, son." Hutch said gently, reaching out to clasp the young boy's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "But I'm going to do my best to find out and make sure he pays for what he did."

"I want my daddy!" the younger boy, who appeared to be around eight years old, cried out. He began to cry harder, burying his face in his mother's skirts. The older boy pulled away from Hutch, turning back to his mother and younger brother, wrapping his arms around them both in a protective gesture. The two detectives moved away, respecting the grieving family's need to be alone.

Hutch shot a worried look at Starsky. He appeared to be visibly shaken by the outburst from the two young boys. There was pinched look to his mouth and a suspiciously bright cast to his eyes. His posture was rigid and straight. Hutch knew the signs; it was taking every ounce of Starsky's will power to keep his emotions tightly under control. Later, when they were alone, safe from prying eyes, he would fall apart and Hutch would be there to pick up the pieces as usual.

He reached out and touched his partner's, arm for a moment, not long enough to be noticeable, but long enough to attract his attention. Starsky favored him with a faint smile, acknowledging the simple gesture of comfort and support. They stood, shoulder to shoulder, and watched solemnly as the team from the coroner's office gently lifted the fallen officer's body onto a stretcher, covering him with a white sheet. Fastening the straps around the body, they carried the stretcher to the coroner's wagon and loaded it inside for transport to the morgue.

"One of the rookies is questioning the neighbors." Starsky said quietly. "But, so far, nobody saw anything." He sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his dark curls. "This really sucks, Hutch."

"I know, buddy. I know." Hutch knew Starsky was talking about more than just the murder of a fellow officer. They went about the immediate tasks at hand, distracting themselves with the familiar routines that went along with the beginning of any investigation. But for them, this case would be more personal. It always was when it involved one of their own.

There was a unique connection between every cop that pinned on a badge, a brotherhood that can not be denied. Cops were bound together by blood, sweat and sometimes tears.

When their life was on the line, the only other people they could truly depend on were their brothers in blue. Because of the atrocities they saw in their everyday lives, cops usually developed a truly 'us' against 'them' mentality, setting themselves apart from the general public that they policed.

Alcholism, divorce, drugs, and domestic violence was far more common among members of the police force than most people realized. It was a stressful, often unrewarding job that changed a person in subtle ways. Wives and girlfriends were often at a loss to truly understand the man they loved and shared their lives with. The only other person a cop truly trusted was another cop and his partner above all others.

Hutch and Starsky were unique among their peers in the sense that they were closer than most partners could ever hope to be. They had met at the academy almost ten years ago and had become best friends almost immediately. By the time they graduated, they were virtually inseparable. They both spent two years in uniform, walking a beat and working with different partners. After they were both promoted to Detective First Class, they convinced their commanding officer to pair them as a team, something relatively unheard of with two inexperienced detectives.

In the past five years, they had become the most successful team of detectives in the department. They had taken on and solved some of the most high profile cases to come across their Captain's desk and their partnership had become almost legendary among their peers. No other team could come close to matching their arrest record or their list of successful convictions.

Wrapping up their initial investigation at the crime scene, they logged off duty for the day. They were both looking forward to a quiet evening so they could unwind from the stress of their day. Without any discussion before hand, Starsky drove to his apartment and the two men went inside. While Hutch went into the kitchen to grab a couple of cold beers, Starsky detoured to the phone to call for a pizza. They slumped down on the sofa, side by side, and propped their feet up on the coffee table as they took a long swallow of their beer.

"Those kids today…" Starsky said after a period of comfortable silence, picking absentmindedly at the label on his bottle. "They're about the same age that Nicky and I were when Pop was shot."

"The whole scene reminded you of your dad, didn't it?" Hutch asked gently, even though he already knew the answer to his own question. Over the years, the two friends had shared their innermost secrets and Hutch knew how traumatic Michael Starsky's murder had been for his eldest son. Not only had Starsky seen his father gunned down right in front of him but the man had actually died in his oldest son's arms.

"Yeah…" Starsky admitted in a quiet voice. He turned his head to look into his best friends eyes, his own reflecting the deep sadness he felt inside. "I still miss him, Hutch. Even after all these years…I still miss him."

Severely traumatized by the events of that day, Starsky had turned into a sullen, angry adolescent rebelling against his mother and the rules that he had always followed at home. He started running with the wrong crowd and getting into trouble. Concerned for her son's future and his safety, Rachel Starsky had made the hardest choice any mother could make. She had sent her oldest son almost three thousand miles away from the only home he had ever known to live with an aunt and uncle he barely knew.

That decision had almost cost Rachel her relationship with her eldest child. Starsky had felt rejected and abandoned by his mother, convinced that she no longer loved him or wanted him around. It had taken several years to mend the rift that had developed between mother and son. Now, they were closer than ever. Starsky called her religiously every Friday night and sent her money every two weeks to help pay her bills.

Hutch reached out to put an arm around Starsky's shoulders, pulling him close. That was another unique aspect to their friendship, their open affection with one another. From the beginning, touch had been an important part of their relationship, another way of communicating that other people often misinterpreted. Rumors had surrounded them since their days in the academy that they were more than just friends, even though their track record with the ladies was well known throughout the department.

Their pizza arrived and they ate while watching a movie on TV. Afterwards, Hutch walked over to the closet and pulled out extra bedding, planning on spending the night because he knew that Starsky needed him there. He made up a bed on the sofa while Starsky took a shower and then they both turned in for the night. Sometime later, Hutch was startled awake by the sound of sobs coming from Starsky's bedroom. He immediately jumped up, stumbling over his own feet in his haste to reach his partner's side.

Starsky was thrashing around on the bed, obviously caught in the midst of a nightmare. He was moaning and crying out in his sleep, tears streaking his cheeks. Ever since Hutch had known him, Starsky had been prone to nightmares, especially when he was sick or stressed out. Instinctively, Hutch crawled into the big king sized bed beside his partner, reaching out to comfort him, gently running his fingers through the thick curls.

"Shhh…it's okay. Open your eyes, Starsk…it's just a dream." Hutch murmured, keeping his voice gentle and low as he coaxed his partner awake. Starsky moaned and turned towards the sound of Hutch's voice, sensing his presence even though he was still asleep. "Come on, babe…" Hutch whispered "Open those eyes for me…"

Starsky's eyelids fluttered and the blond saw a sliver of blue. "Hutch…" he muttered sleepily, not fully awake yet.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm right here. You were having a bad dream. Do you wanna talk about it?"

"It was Pop." Starsky admitted, curling up closer to his friend and resting his head on the broad shoulder. "I was dreaming about Pop."

"About the day he was shot?"

Starsky nodded without answering, a tear slipping down his cheek. With anyone else he would have been embarrassed by his display of emotion but not with Hutch. Never with Hutch. With Hutch he could cry without feeling ashamed or embarrassed because he knew that Hutch would understand. He sighed in contentment as those long slender fingers continued combing through his hair. Within minutes, he was sleeping peacefully, the bad dreams chased away by his best friend's presence.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

The church was filled with people, so crowded that some of the men and women had to stand at the back of the room. Starsky and Hutch, both wearing their dress uniforms, sat in a pew halfway down the aisle. Virginia Tanner and her two children sat in the front pew, directly in front of the silver casket that stood on the riser at the front of the church. The mother and the youngest son were both crying softly, wiping at their eyes frequently as they shared a concealed hanky. The oldest son sat beside his mother, his head held high and his eyes dry.

Starsky's gaze kept drifting towards the oldest son, remembering himself reacting in a similar fashion at his own father's funeral. Even at that young age, he had felt the responsibility of being 'the man of the family' suddenly thrust on his shoulders, a burden he was totally unprepared to accept. And that meant not shedding a tear, at least not in public where everyone could witness his overwhelming grief. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. Grateful for the distraction, he flashed his partner a somber smile.

Starsky turned his attention back to the words of the Catholic Priest, unfamiliar words spoken in Latin that were meant to comfort the mourners. The only comfort that Starsky needed was sitting by his side. There had been more times than Starsky cared to remember that he had desperately needed that touch to stay grounded and focused. The funeral was stirring up memories and feelings Starsky thought he had buried deep in his mind. This whole case was making him uneasy.

The service finally came to an end and the mourners slowly filed out of the church to return to their cars. Starsky and Hutch climbed into Hutch's battered LTD with Starsky slumped in the passenger's seat. Although the brunet usually did the driving when they were on duty, he hadn't objected when Hutch had volunteered to drive that morning. Starsky stared out of the side window as Hutch started the engine and carefully pulled into line behind the other cars following the hearse to the fallen officer's final resting place.

"Ballistics said the weapon used for the shooting was a high powered rifle," Hutch said as he followed the motorcade thru the streets to the cemetery.

"They found the car this morning," Starsky added "Abandoned in a vacant lot off Monroe. Wiped clean. It was reported stolen and the plates were stolen from a different vehicle. So, that's a bust too."

"There had to be at least two men, the shooter and the driver." Hutch said, thinking aloud as he drove.

"Yeah, and if this was a professional hit, they probably didn't even know each other. The driver was probably some poor dumb ass down on his luck who was offered a few bucks to drive the car. He probably never realized he was getting involved with the murder of a cop."

"And we could end up finding him with a bullet in his head." Hutch said solemnly "If the shooter was a pro, he won't leave anyone behind who might be able to identify him,."

The two men fell into a comfortable silence as Hutch pulled through the gates of the cemetery and parked behind the other cars. The two men climbed out of the car and walked across the neatly trimmed grass to the final resting place of the fallen officer

They stopped a short distance away from the crowd of mourners, sheltered under the branches of a large oak tree.

After a few words at graveside, seven uniformed officers stepped forward, each shouldering a rifle and taking aim at the sky. In perfect unison, they shot three shots a piece, performing the traditional twenty-one gun salute to their fallen companion. As soon as they finished, the honor guard stepped forward and carefully folded the US Flag covering the casket. When he finished, he stepped forward, respectfully presenting the flag to the widow.

As soon as the officers raised their guns to fire the salute, Starsky stood rigidly at attention, one hand raised crisply to his forehead in a sharp salute. He held the stance until after the widow was presented with the flag, and then he shifted into a perfect parade rest position. It was Starsky's way of showing his highest respect and regard to the grieving family.

The two friends blended in with the other mourners as they began to drift back to their own cars to either go to their own homes, to return to work, or to join the family at their home. Starsky and Hutch would be stopping at their own apartments to change out of their dress uniforms before reporting to duty for their afternoon shift.

Silence filled the car on the short drive from the cemetery to Hutch's Venice apartment. They had both attended too many formal ceremonies to honor fallen comrades in their years on the force. It always left an empty feeling in the pit of their stomachs and an eternal gratitude in their hearts that it hadn't been either one of them who had given their life for the badge that they wore.

Starsky and Hutch planned to spend most of their shift going over the statements from the Tanner family's neighbors looking for anything they might have missed the first time. They would also be checking for any similar crimes within a three state radius of Bay City. It was just another tedious but necessary part of any investigation.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Starsky tossed the file to one side and stretched his arms over his head to work the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. He glanced across the desk at Hutch who was still bent over a file examining the contents. Needing a break, Starsky's stomach growled reminding him that he hadn't eaten since early that morning.

"Hey, Hutch…let's knock off and go get something to eat." He suggested "My treat."

Hutch glanced at his partner with the arch of an eyebrow. "Not one of your ptomaine infested taco joints." He informed his friend "I want some real food."

"Let's go to Huggys. Maybe he's heard something on the streets we can use."

Hutch nodded agreeably and gracefully rose to his feet. Huggy Bear Brown was a close personal friend and informant of the two detectives who owned a popular bar and grill not far from Police headquarters. The prices were fair and the food was good. The menu included a variety that appealed to both Starsky's junk food cravings and Hutch's healthier choices.

Hutch pulled into the alley behind the brick building with the sign out front that read _THE PITS.___He parked between the back entrance and the dumpster in a spot that was usually reserved for deliveries. The two men climbed out of the car and walked in the back door that opened into the kitchen area of the bar.

Originally, the bar had been housed in the basement until Huggy had managed to get a small business loan to buy the building and expanded his business, moving the bar to the first floor and adding two small furnished rooms on the second floor. Both Starsky and Hutch had taken advantage of the upstairs rooms at one time or another over the years.

Angie, the cook, and his two helpers, Leroy and Eddie, ignored the two men as they passed through on their way to the bar. They were frequent visitors and the employees were accustomed to them entering the establishment through the back entrance.

Since it was only two in the afternoon, the bar wasn't busy. Only two tables were occupied, both by regulars who spent most of their time drinking their days away. Starsky and Hutch immediately headed for their favorite booth in the back of the room. They sat across from each other with Hutch facing the front entrance.

Belinda, one of Huggy's waitresses, immediately walked over to their booth, smiling brightly. She enjoyed flirting with both of the handsome detectives even though neither one of them had ever shown any interest in asking her out. She wouldn't have accepted even if they had. She had a jealous boyfriend with a mean streak so flirting with the two men was nothing more than a little harmless fun to brighten up her day.

"Hey, guys. What can I get ya?" she said, throwing back her shoulders so that the tight white tee shirt she wore stretched tighter across her bust.

"What's the special?" Starsky asked, giving her one of his trademark grins, as he let his eyes sweep over her figure.

"Country fried steak and gravy with a biscuit and mashed potatoes." She told him as she returned his smile with a flirtatious one of her own.

"Sounds great. That's what I'll have and a large coke."

Belinda wrote down his order and then looked at Hutch. The blond hesitated, considering his choices, and then said, "I'll have the same thing but give me a salad too with ranch dressing on the side and a glass of buttermilk."

"You got it." Belinda said

"Is Huggy around?" Hutch asked before she could walk away.

"He's in the office. I'll tell him you're here."

"Thanks, schweetheart." Starsky said, favoring her with his Bogart impersonation and receiving a patient smile from Belinda in return. She turned and walked away with an exaggerated swing of her hips.

Within a few minutes, a tall thin black man sauntered across the room towards their booth. He was flamboyantly dressed in neon blue pants and a lemon yellow shirt with a red vest.

"Damn, Hug," Hutch said, blinking his eyes at the bar owner's outfit. "Do you offer sunglasses with that get up?"

"Unlike you, Blondie, the Bear has an image to uphold." Huggy said smugly as he postured to show off his attire. "What can I do for you jive turkeys this fine day?"

"You heard anything on the streets about the shooter that wasted Jim Tanner?" Hutch asked

"That cop?"

Starsky nodded exchanging a somber look with the black man "He left behind two little boys and a young widow."

"That sucks." Huggy said. He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Word has it that there was a heavy dude asking around a couple of weeks ago for a driver. He was looking to pay five big ones for a wheelman that could be guaranteed to keep their mouth shut afterwards. Rumor has it that he had something planned that involved a cop."

"You got a name?" Starsky asked "For the driver or the shooter?"

"Can't help you on the shooter but I heard that little Mo Mo brokered for the driver."

"Little Mo Mo, huh?" Hutch said "Does he still hang out at that pool hall over on fifteenth?"

"Last I heard and if he ain't there, then check with Orphan Annie. She usually knows where he is."

Hutch nodded and slid his hand across the top of the table to the barkeep. Huggy reached down and scooped up the twenty dollar bill that Hutch slipped him. Starsky and Hutch were well known on the streets for being fair with their snitches and informants, paying good money for righteous information. Huggy pocketed the money and strutted away just as Belinda returned with their drinks and food.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Belmont Street was located in a seedy, rundown part of Bay City that catered to the drunks, hookers, and hustlers. The only people who frequented the area were the people that frequented the shabby bars in the area or the homeless men and women who slept in the alleys and doorways.

Joey's pool hall had seen better days, the old building was crumbling down around it and the interior was dull and faded. The air smelled like stale beer, urine and vomit and the bar was covered with an unidentified layer of scrum.

The only person in the pool hall was the bartender that served watered down drinks and a drunk dozing in the corner, propped up against the wall. The man tending the bar eyed the two detectives suspiciously as soon as they walked in the door, immediately spotting them as cops. On parole, the last thing he wanted was trouble with a couple of hardnosed cops.

Starsky strutted over to the bar and said, "Little Mo Mo been in here lately?"

The bartender heaved a deep sigh of relief when he heard Little Mo Mo's name, grateful that these two weren't looking for him. "Ain't seen him for over a week. Heard he made a big score. Maybe he took off for greener pastures, ya know?"

"And give up all this?" Starsky said in a sarcastic voice, sweeping his arm to take in the surrounding area. His eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned in closer to the nervous bartender, deliberating invading his personal space. "What kind of score did Little Mo Mo make?"

"Man, I don't know." The man hedged anxiously, "He just came in here shooting off his mouth about how he made himself a bundle of money just by finding somebody to do a favor for somebody else. That's all I know. Honest, I'd tell you if I knew more than that."

Starsky peered at him for several long minutes as if considering his truthfulness. Then he smiled thinly, the smile never quite making it to his eyes. He reached out and patted the bartender's cheek, a little more roughly than necessary, and said, "If I find out that you know more than you're telling me, I'll be back. Understood?"

"Understood." The man answered in a shaky voice that barely concealed his fear. Starsky and Hutch could both be as intimidating as hell when they chose to be. They often switched off with one of them playing bad cop, while the other way played good cop, depending on their moods. Today was Starsky's turn to be the bad guy while Hutch hung back and watched. Hutch had to hide a smile. Nobody did bad better than Starsky.

His normally warm, expressive eyes could turn cold and deadly in a heartbeat, his rich baratone voice becoming cold steel that could cut through ice and leave the bad guys shaking in their boots. But Hutch knew the softer, gentler side of his partner that lurked beneath the surface of the hardnosed, streetwise, inner city cop.

"Have a nice day." Hutch said amicably as the two men turned and left the pool hall.

"Looks like we need to find Orphan Annie." Starsky grumbled as he slid beneath the wheel and turned on the ignition. The Torino roared to life as he pulled away from the curb.

Orphan Annie was a hooker who went by the name of Orange. As part of her street persona, she had adopted a character patterned after the popular comic strip character. She dressed in an exaggerated version of a little girl's outfit and her hair was tightly curled and dyed bright orange. To further compliment her character, she had a large airdale terrior whose fur was also a dark reddish orange color. Starsky and Hutch had come into contact with her several times in the past and had found her to be a reliable source of information.

She usually could be found plying her trade in an old downtown hotel that was badly in need of repair and rented rooms by the month, the week, the day or the hour. Orange was only one of the neighborhood hookers that took advantage of the cheap rates and convenient location. As they had expected, the two detectives found Orange sitting at a table in the hotel's bar. She looked up, batting her eyes seductively, as the two men sat down at the table with her.

"Oh, my…I'm afraid I don't do threesomes. Although in your case, I would be willing to make an exception." She said demurely, in a whispery voice. In spite of her innocent expression and childish sounding tone, under that head of ridiculous hair was the brain of a true survivor.

"Sorry, Orange." Hutch said with a gentle smile, willing to play the game to get the information they needed. "We're not looking for a good time. Not today. Just some information. Little Mo Mo. Do you know where he is?"

"Mo Mo?" Orange asked, arching an eyebrow slightly and widening her blue eyes in alarm. "I hope he's not in any trouble, officer."

" We'd just like to ask him a few questions. We're hoping he can help us find somebody else." Hutch reached out and rubbed the back of Orange's hand. To a casual observer, it would like look like a simple gesture of affection but in reality, it concealed the twenty dollar bill that he discreetly slipped to the young hooker. Orange palmed the money expertly and nodded her head.

"Oh, yes….I remember now. He said he was going on a trip. Somewhere down South…Mexico maybe."

"When did he leave?" Starsky interjected a question of his own.

"Two…maybe three days ago. He was awfully upset. He said something happened that he didn't want any part of."

"I bet." Starsky muttered under his breath in a disgusted tone. Without Little Mo Mo, they might never find the driver. Knowing that they would get no more useful information from Orange, they rose to their feet and left the hotel.

Since it was late in the day and their shift was almost over, Hutch grabbed the radio and logged them out. With a spin of the wheel, Starsky automatically headed towards his own apartment. He was quiet and withdrawn, lost in his own thoughts. Hutch's natural concern for his partner surfaced but he knew better than to push the brunet. He would talk about whatever was troubling him when he was ready and not before. If Hutch pushed him to talk now, Starsky would just withdrawn more.

At Starsky's apartment, the two men climbed the steps and went inside. Starsky immediately headed towards the bedroom, while Hutch detoured into the kitchen to raid the contents of the refrigerator and cupboards to find something to fix them to eat. He found two containers of left over Chinese food that appeared to still be good so he poured it out into a pan to heat up. He knew that Starsky generally threw leftovers out within a couple of days whereas Hutch was more apt to leave them in his refrigerator until mold started to grow.

It was simply another one of the sharp contrasts between the two partners and their individual habits. Most people assumed that Hutch was the neat freak and Starsky was the slob, instead of the other way around. Hutch knew that Starsky's mother, his Aunt Rose, and the military had all contributed to Starsky's rigid sense of order and preference for neatness in his personal environment.

Hutch was just taking their makeshift meal off the stove when Starsky came out of the bedroom, still toweling dry his wet curls. He was casually dressed in a faded blue robe, belted tightly at the waist. He looked relaxed and refreshed, the earlier tension gone from his face.

He pulled a root beer out of the refrigerator and sat down at the table, inhaling deeply and smiling at the aroma. "Smells great." He said "I forgot I still had that in there."

"Yeah, it looked good to me too." Hutch said as he poured himself a glass of sweet tea and joined his partner at the table. They ate in a comfortable silence for several minutes until Hutch said, "This case is getting to you, isn't it?"

"I guess…" Starsky said hesitantly. "It reminds me so much of when my dad got shot."

"You've never really talked much about that day." Hutch pointed out. "If this case is stirring up all those old memories, maybe it would help to talk about it."

"Yeah…maybe." Starsky said quietly, his voice unsure and his tone suddenly sounding very young and insecure. "It's just…it's hard to talk about that day. Even after all this time."

"I know but I'm ready to listen if you're ready to talk."

"Yeah, I know." Starsky said with a flash of a smile curling his mouth. He shoved his half-eaten plate of food aside and looked at his partner, the profound trust he felt for his friend shining in his eyes. Finally, he took a deep breath and began his story, "I was three weeks away from my thirteenth birthday the day that Pop got killed. He was going to take me to a Dodgers game…he already had the tickets and everything." Starsky smiled fondly at the fleeting memory. "Pop was working days that week and me and Nicky were watching for him to come home. When he worked nights, we were always in bed when he got home…but sometimes Ma would let me wait up for him on the weekends because I was the oldest, ya know?" Hutch nodded, not wanting to interrupt his partner's train of thought.

Starsky sighed heavily. "Me and Pop were close, real close. He always used to tell me that if anything ever happened to him…I had to be the man of the house and take care of Ma and Nicky." Starsky choked back a sob but quickly composed himself and continued. "Anyway…I saw Pop's car coming down the street. Nicky had ran into the kitchen to get a cookie so I ran outside to wait at the bottom of the steps for Pop. He pulled into the driveway and got out of the car…he grinned at me and held out his arms, the way he always did. I heard the other car coming down the street and I saw Pop look up just as it drove by. I'll never forget the look on his face." Starsky took a deep shuddering breath as he faced his inner demons. "I could tell that he knew what was about to happen. He yelled at me to stay back and started to reach for his gun…I heard the gunshots and I saw Pop fall to the ground. I didn't even stop to think about getting hurt myself, I just ran to Pop and knelt down beside him."

Starsky paused to recompose himself before going on with his story. Hutch felt a catch in his own throat when he saw the glint of tears in the brunet's eyes. "I'd never seen so much blood. Pop caught three slugs in the chest. He was still alive but I could hear the gurgling sound every time he tried to take a breath. He just looked at me for a minute and then he was gone. I remember screaming, begging him not to leave me, telling him he couldn't die…"

The tears that Starsky had been trying so hard to hold back began to fall freely down his cheeks. "I heard Ma and Nicky come out of the house and they were screaming and yelling too…then the neighbors started running into the yard and one of them grabbed me to pull me away from Pop. I hit him. I told him to leave me alone. Pop needed me. I don't remember much after that until later that night when I found myself in my room lying on the bed in the dark. I was still covered with Pop's blood. Ma told me later that I fought everybody who tried to make me leave Pop's side until the ambulance arrived and one of the paramedics gave me a shot to knock me out so they could take Pop's body away."

Starsky let out a pained gasp as the memories rushed over him, hurting as much as they had that day so long ago. Hutch automatically reached out to clasp his shoulder to keep him focused and steady. Hutch felt humbled that Starsky trusted him enough to share such a traumatic childhood memory with him. He squeezed Starsky's shoulder encouragingly, letting him know that it was all right to continue when he was ready.

"I don't remember much about the funeral." Starsky said quietly, regaining control of his emotions. "All I remember thinking is…my Pop was gone and I was never going to see him again. I know Ma was worried about me but she was so wrapped up her own grief and pain that she couldn't be there for me and Nicky too. I can remember lying in bed at night and listening to her crying in her room. I wanted to go to her but I was hurting too much myself to do it. I just wanted Pop back and that wasn't about to happen."

The brunet took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Ma was so sad after that, sometimes she'd just shut herself in her bedroom and spend the whole day crying. And I was so angry but I didn't have anybody to focus that anger on except myself. I started running the streets and hanging out with a neighborhood gang. They made me feel like I still had somewhere that I belonged. I was supposed to be watching Nicky after school because Ma had to go to work to make ends meet but most of the time, I just left Nicky to fend for himself. God, Hutch…he was only seven years old and I was leaving him alone for hours at time."

"It's not your fault." Hutch said soothingly. "You were hurting…you all were."

"I started getting into trouble and skipping school. Ma didn't know what to do with me. Talking to me didn't do any good…I'd just talk back to her and sneak out if she tried to ground me." Starsky hung his head as if he were ashamed to go on. Hutch hesitated, wondering if he should stop his partner from continuing but Starsky apparently decided to tell Hutch the rest of the story.

"I got picked up a couple of times for shop lifting and once with some other guys riding around in a stolen car. Then one day I got jumped by a bunch of boys from a rival gang from another neighborhood. They beat me half to death with a baseball bat and threw me off a two story building. I woke up in the hospital with a busted up ankle, a couple of broken ribs and a nasty concussion. I was surprised to still be alive." Hutch already knew that part of that story. As a lingering consequence of that day, Starsky had a severe fear of heights and a trick ankle that was always giving him trouble.

"Ma finally had as much as she could take of me and my shit, so she sent me out here to live with Uncle Al and Aunt Rosie." He looked at Hutch, the tears still streaming down his face "And you know the rest of the story."

Without any hesitation, Hutch reached out and pulled Starsky into a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around the unresisting body of his best friend and partner. Starsky gave a broken cry and buried his face against Hutch's shoulder, finally giving in to the pain and grief that crawled at his throat and twisted his stomach into knots. He began to sob quietly, bitter tears of regret and sorrow. Hutch hoped that finally sharing his memories of that day with Hutch would help to ease some of Starsky's repressed grief and pain.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

After his emotional disclosure, Starsky seemed more relaxed but Hutch wasn't surprised when the brunet's sleep that night was disturbed by nightmares. Luckily, they didn't have to be on duty the next day until late afternoon. Htuch went out for his usual three mile run at six A.M. and then returned to take a shower. After freshening up, he made himself a light breakfast and did some chores until Starsky woke up around ten am.

Starsky opened the door to grab the morning paper and discovered an envelope stuck in his mailbox. There was no postmark or return address, just Starsky's name printed on the front in black marker. He carried the paper and envelope back into the apartment. He tossed the paper on the coffee table and tore open the envelope. His brows drew into a frown as he took out a single sheet of folded white paper and read the few words written there. Silently, he held out the paper to Hutch.

Hutch took the paper and looked at it, concerned by the cryptic message it contained.

_One little piggy, two little piggy.__Catch me if you can before I make it three._The blond looked at his brunet counterpart and said, "Damn! Do you think this means he killed another cop?"

"I don't know. I hope the hell not." Starsky growled "But we better get this note to Dobey and tell him to get out a warning to the cops on the streets to be careful."

"How the hell did he find out your name and where you lived?" Hutch mused. As undercover detectives, their phone numbers were unlisted and their home addresses were not common knowledge except to their closest friends and Captain Dobey. Still, there were ways to find that information if someone wanted it badly enough. If the killer was bold enough and arrogant enough to start sending them messages, then maybe he was stupid enough to make a mistake that would enable them to catch him.

The two men left the apartment, taking the envelope and letter with them, to turn it in to Captain Dobey. The note was clearly a threat but to whom? Did the killer plan on killing more cops, making a sick game of it until he was caught? Or was he targeting someone specific as his next victim?

"We need to check out all the cases Jim Tanner was involved in for the past four years since he's been on the force." Hutch suggested as Starsky expertly navigated his way through the lunch hour traffic.

"He was just a lousy street cop. He shouldn't have been involved in anything heavy enough to get himself wasted like that." Starsky grumbled

"Your father was just a street cop and look what happened to him." Hutch pointed out solemnly.

"Yeah, you're right." Starsky acknowledged, a flash of pain flickering across his face as Hutch reminded him of the obvious comparison with their current case. There were far too many similarities between this case and his father's murder for Starsky's own peace of mind.

"Maybe his murder wasn't even connected to his being a cop." Hutch mused "We need to check into his personal life too. Maybe he had a girlfriend stashed away somewhere that his wife didn't know about or maybe he was into the ponies or something."

"You could be right." Starsky agreed "But that still puts us back at square one. If we find out why he was killed then maybe we'll find out who wanted him dead bad enough to pay for a hit."

"Or maybe not. Maybe all we have is some psycho who hates cops and is out there picking 'em off one by one."

"God, I hope not. If that's the case, every cop on the force could be a target."

"Well, if that letter is supposed to be a threat, I guess we'll find out soon enough."

"Terrfic." Starsky muttered as he pulled up to his favored parking spot in front of headquarters. The two men strolled up the steps into the building and then up to the third floor where their squad room was housed. They bypassed their shared desk and went directly to Captain Dobey's office.

The robust Captain glanced up as the door to his office opened and looked at his favorite team of detectives with a questioning expression on his face. "You two are early." He growled "You're not due on duty for three more hours."

"Someone decided to send Starsky a note with his newspaper this morning," Hutch said, taking the envelope from his jacket pocket and dropping it on the desk in front of his superior. Dobey picked up the envelope and took out the slip of paper inside, scanning the contents quickly.

"Have there been any reports of any other cops getting wasted in the past twenty-four hours?" Starsky asked, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at his Captain almost belligerently.

"Not that I'm aware of." Dobey said, shaking his head "But I'll check with the other precincts to see if they've had anything usual happen with any of their officers."

"That note makes it sound like he's already blown away another cop." Hutch pointed out.

"I can see that, Hutchinson." Dobey growled in his usual gruff tone. "But to the best of my knowledge, it wasn't a cop from this precinct. To be on the safe side, I'll have someone call everyone who is off duty, on vacation or on medical leave to make sure that they're all right. What are you two going to do?"

"We're going to do some digging into Officer Tanner's private life." Hutch told him "See if he was into anything that could have gotten him killed."

"Watch yourselves out there." Dobey warned them needlessly. "Since this scumbag sent his little message to Starsky, he knows who you are and that could make you both a target." He raised his voice slightly and pointed a warning finger at both men. "NO PRIVATE PARTIES!" he warned. "If you expect any kind of trouble, call for backup!"

"Yes, sir." Starsky said with a sharp salute and a click of his heels. Hutch smothered a laugh at his partner's antics, sobering quickly at the glare he received in turn from Dobey. The two detectives quickly left the office to avoid any further lecturing from their Captain.

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Reluctantly, they both decided that their first contact needed to be with Virginia Tanner. They had no desire to upset the new widow but if they were going to be investigating her husband's private life, they wanted her to hear about it from them and not from one of her neighbors or friends. They were both silent as they drove to the Tanner home.

Hutch's knock was answered almost immediately by Virginia Tanner. She looked at them questioningly and said, "Yes, may I help you?"

"Yes, I'm Detective Hutchinson and this is my partner, Detective Starsky. We're investigating your husband's murder."

"Yes, I know who you are. Have you found out something?"

"No, ma'am," Hutch told her "I'm afraid not yet but we are still working on it. We'd like to ask you a few questions. May we come in?"

"Of course. Please, come in." she said, stepping aside and gesturing them inside.

The small modest home was tastefully furnished with inexpensive but well cared for furniture. Pictures of their two children were proudly displayed on the walls in the living room, as well as a large framed wedding picture and a prominently displayed photograph of Jim Tanner in his police uniform. The perfect picture of marital bliss and a happy family.

Starsky and Hutch sat side by side on the sofa. Smiling at them warmly, Mrs. Tanner said, "Could I get you something to drink? Some coffee, a coke, a glass of tea?"

"No thank you," Starsky told her, declining for both of them. He glanced at Hutch for support, not in any hurry to start the questioning. Hutch gave him a faint smile and a nod. Reassured, Starsky said, "Mrs. Tanner, we need to ask you some personal questions about your husband's private life. We don't mean to intrude. It's all part of our investigation."

"I understand. What do you want to know?" she asked, slumping down in an easy chair facing the sofa. Although her voice was cordial, her expression was wary and guarded.

"Did you and your husband have any personal problems in your marriage?" Hutch asked, relieving Starsky of the questioning since he seemed so uneasy.

"No. Jim and I were very happy. Neither one of us was having an affair if that's what you're asking. Jim worked an 8 hour shift and then came home to us every night. He didn't even go out with his partner for a drink after work. And if he had to work late, he called me every two hours to make sure me and the kids were okay."

"What about any other bad habits? Did your husband gamble, play the ponies, anything that affected your finances?"

"No, of course not." She said defensively, a hint of anger creeping into her voice. "Jim put every extra dime he could in the bank. We were planning a vacation this summer. We were going to take the boys to Disney World in Orlando for a week."

"Did your husband mention anyone threatening him lately?"

"No. Jim rarely discussed his job with me."

Starsky and Hutch exchanged a meaningful glance. Most police officers shared little of their day with their loved ones. How do you go home and tell your wife or mother that some punk held a knife to your throat because you tried to arrest him or talk about the murder scene where three little children were the victims of their father's drunken rage? It was easier and less complicated to keep those kind of details to yourself.

"Have you received any unusual phone calls…or maybe someone harassing you in some way?" Starsky asked "Anyone you don't recognize hanging around the neighborhood lately?"

"No, nothing. This is a very quiet neighborhood and all the neighbors look out for each other. If there had been any suspicious strangers hanging around, someone would have reported it to the police."

"What about your children?" Hutch asked "Have they mentioned trouble with anyone at school or any strangers approaching them?"

"No, nothing." Virginia Tanner rose gracefully to her feet. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can't tell you anything else. Jim and I had a good marriage and nothing unusual has happened lately that I would consider a threat. I'd like you to leave now. I have some phone calls to return and some errands to run."

"Of course." Hutch said graciously. He pulled one of his business cards from his wallet and handed it to her. "Please call us if you think of anything that might help us find out who killed your husband. And we apologize for intruding on your privacy."

"I understand." She said as she showed the two men to the door. "I know you're just doing your job but you won't find the answers that you're looking for in Jim's private life."

As they walked back to the Torino, Hutch said, "I think she's telling the truth."

"So do I." Starsky said somberly "The perfect little family…almost too good to be true."

"Do you want to talk to some of the neighbors?"

"Might as well since we already here. Maybe we'll find out that Jim Tanner had a secret that his wife didn't know about."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Talking to the Tanner's neighbors made them appear to be the perfect, loving family. No secret affairs, no loud arguments in the middle of the night, no unusual activity that had attracted the neighbor's attention. Likewise, nobody recalled any strangers hanging around the area or reported any disturbances. It was pretty much what the two detectives had expected to find so they weren't really surprised. The next logical step was to talk to Jim Tanner's partner to find out what cases they had been working on recently.

His partner, Jeff Haley, readily agreed to meet with Starsky and Hutch after he got off duty. He was familiar with The Pits so they made plans to meet there at six o'clock. The two detectives arrived first and grabbed an empty booth towards the back of the room where they could talk privately. Twenty minutes later, Jeff Haley arrived. He was an older man in his mid-forties with closely cut dirty blonde hair and a deeply lined face. A bulge hung over his belt suggesting a man who had lost interest in keeping trim and fit. His smile was warm but cautious as he joined the two friends at their table.

Haley knew Starsky and Hutch by sight and by reputation. He knew that they were good at their jobs and he hoped that they could help find his partner's murderer. He had only worked with Jim Tanner for a short period of time but he had genuinely liked the younger man. After ordering something to drink, the three men got down to business.

"How long had you and Jim Tanner been partners?" Hutch started off, watching the other man's body language carefully as he answered.

"Just over six months. He was a good cop and a good man. He doted on his wife and kids, talked about them all the time." Jeff replied. "I want to help any way that I can to find the scum that gunned him down like that."

"So do we," Starsky assured him "Did he ever mention anything in his private life that might have caused any problems? A girlfriend maybe that his wife didn't know about or maybe a drinking problem?"

"Naw, nothing like that. Jim was as straight as they come. He couldn't wait to get off duty and go home to spend time with his wife and kids. Hell, he wouldn't even go out with the guys for a drink after work, no matter how many times we asked him."

"Were you and Jim working on any cases that might have pissed someone off enough to come after him like that?" Hutch asked

"No. Just a couple of break-ins, a purse snatching, a couple of traffic accidents…you know just routine stuff for us. You undercover guys get all the dirty jobs that need more investigating. Us ordinary stiffs just do the initial legwork and then turn in our reports."

"Did anything unusual happen on your beat in the last few weeks that stands out in your mind? Maybe something you were aware of but not involved in."

"Not that I can recall but you know how it is. There were a couple of incidents where some bystanders called us names and got a little out of hand but nothing big." He looked at the two detectives thoughtfully, pausing as the waitress sat three beers down on the table in front of them. As she walked away to wait on other customers, he said, "There is one thing I remember. Jim had his log book come up missing."

"When?"

"A couple of weeks ago. He'd left it in the car while we were talking to a shop keeper and arrested a girl he'd caught shoplifting. When we got back to the station, Jim couldn't find his log book anywhere. We just figured maybe some kid saw it lying in the car and swiped it. He made a report on it and asked for new one."

"Did it ever turn up?"

"No."

Starsky and Hutch exchanged glances. A cop's logbook was where he wrote down every detail of his day to be used later when he wrote up his reports. Losing it could create problems because it contained information about different cases a cop was involved in that could prove vital to an investigation. But a beat cop's log book was usually filled with dull, routine information compared to the more intimate details that might be found in a detective's book. The significance of the missing book may or may not be a clue in the young officer's murder.

"Is there anything else you can think of?" Starsky asked "Anything at all?"

"No, I wish there was." Jeff said regretfully. "You think somebody gunned him down just because he was a cop?"

"It's beginning to look that way." Hutch admitted "He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. We may never know why the killer targeted him except for the uniform."

"You think he's gonna kill more cops before you catch him?"

The two friends exchanged glances again, remembering the cryptic note Starsky had received that morning. "It's hard to say." Hutch said evasively, not wanting to share that piece of information with anyone except Captain Dobey just yet. "Just watch your back out there and be careful."

"Always. I wanna be around to collect my pension." Haley said. He finished off his beer and shoved himself to his feet, "I have to get home. My wife will kill me if I'm too late. Good luck. I really hope you nail this guy." He shook both their hands and left the bar.

Starsky's shoulders sagged dejectedly as he finished his beer in one long swallow. Slouching into the corner of the booth, he looked at Hutch and said, "It's beginning to look more and more like Jim Tanner just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Yeah and he was singled out just because he was a cop, that doesn't make our job any easier."

"Especially if there's a cop killer out there getting his kicks hunting down cops to kill."

"You think that's what we're dealing with?" Hutch asked "I mean the hit had all the earmarks of a professional hit that was planned in advance, not just a random shooting."

"Yeah, I know. That's what keeps bugging me." Starsky admitted.

"Well, so far there haven't been any more cops killed…let's hope it stays that way."

"That note I got this morning made it sound like he's killed at least one other cop. Maybe we just haven't found the body yet."

"Or maybe he wasn't a cop from around here." Hutch suggested. "He could have killed another cop someplace else before he came to Bay City."

"Yeah, and we don't have the time or resources to investigate every cop killing in every major city outside of the state." Starsky said dryly

"True. Plus, we have no idea when the other killing, if there was one, even occurred. It could have been years ago for all we know." Hutch pointed out.

"Great…so we're still at square one with nothing except a note from a nut with a grudge against cops."

"Yeah, I know." Hutch said in a tired voice. Cases like this one with very little to go on were the bane of every cop's existance. These were the types of cases that often went unsolved, shoved away in a drawer with other unresolved cases and reviewed once a year for any new information.

Hutch reached out and squeezed Starsky's shoulder comfortingly. He knew that the circumstances of this case were eerily similar to Michael Starsky's murder back in New York almost twenty years ago. To date, a case that remained unsolved. The only difference in that case and the one they were working on was that Michael Starsky's murder was believed to have been related to mob activity that he had been investigating at the time. Hutch's concern was the similarities between the two cases and the memories and emotions this case was stirring up in Starsky.

The rest of their shift passed quietly with no new developments in any of their open cases. They finally left headquarters shortly after midnight. Starsky dropped Hutch off at his apartment and then headed for his own apartment to get a few hours sleep.

Rotating shifts were a constant source of irritation for police officers. Starsky, in particular, had trouble adjusting when he had to switch from the afternoon shift to day shift. It was a well know fact that the brunet was not a morning person and had to struggle to drag himself out of bed when he had to be at work by eight am.

Starsky stopped at a carryout near his apartment and grabbed a six pack of beer on his way home. He planned on having a couple before turning in so he could unwind. His footsteps were heavy as he climbed out of the Torino and trudged towards the short flight of steps that led to the deck in front of his apartment. Fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the door and stepped into his dark apartment, reaching out to his right to turn on the light switch. Nothing happened.

_Fuck! Damn fuses!_ He thought to himself as he carefully felt his way through the dark towards the kitchen and the fuse box. He sat the six pack down on the table in passing and ran his hand along the far wall until he found the fuse box. Opening it, he found the main breaker by touch and flipped it back on, flooding the apartment with light. He frowned slightly as he looked around the apartment. Although everything seemed to be undisturbed and in its usual place, he had the eerie feeling that someone had been in the apartment in his absence.

Drawing his gun and flicking off the safety, he cautiously moved through the seemingly empty apartment. He didn't find anything unusual until he opened his bedroom door. A single white envelope with his name written across the front in black marker lay on his pillow.

Breathing heavily, he sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the envelope for several minutes before picking up the bedside phone and dialing Hutch's number. The blond answered on the first ring.

"It's me." Starsky said quietly "I just got home and found another note from our friend. This time he left it lying on my bed."

"Hang on. I'll be right there." Hutch said. Starsky replaced the phone in the cradle and picked up the envelope. He decided to wait until Hutch arrived to see what it contained.

Hutch barreled through the front door less than fifteen minutes later. Starsky was sitting on the sofa, the unopened envelope lying on the coffee table, waiting for him. Hutch sat down beside him and picked up the envelope. He tore it open and took out the single sheet of paper inside, reading it silently, before passing it to Starsky.

"_One little Piggy, two little piggy,"_the note read _"The game is about to end the way it began. Catch me if you can or the third little piggy will die."_

"Game? What game? What the fuck is he talking about?" Starsky raged, his infamous temper about to explode with frustration. The burnet threw the note down on the sofa and bounced to his feet, pacing the living room in agitation.

"I don't know, buddy." Hutch said calmly "But, he seems determined to make you a part of it."

"Why me? Why not you?" Starsky snapped

"Who knows. Maybe he likes you better." Hutch stood up and reached out a hand to stop his partner's frantic pacing. "Maybe he's just trying to get under your skin."

"Well, it's working!" Starsky growled, calming down slightly at his friend's soothing touch. He slumped down on the sofa. Hutch followed suit and waited for the brunet to vent his anger. He didn't have to wait long. "He was in here, Hutch…in my apartment! He turned off the breaker so the lights didn't work when I came in."

"How did he get in here?" Hutch asked. He knew that Starsky was more safety conscious than he was. Hutch customarily left his key above his doorway where anyone could find it.

"I don't know. There's no sign of any forced entry and nothing seems to be missing."

"Looks like he can add breaking and entering to his list of crimes." Hutch said somberly. "Look, I'm gonna crash here tonight. We need to call this in and report it, get a crime lab team here. Maybe he screwed up and left some prints."

"Fat chance. He's too good for that." Starsky grumbled as he reached for the phone to call it in.

The crime lab crew arrived in short order but as Starsky had suspected, they didn't find any unidentified fingerprints or any sign of forced entry. They bagged the note for evidence and took it with them to turn in to Captain Dobey. After they left, the two men turned in for the night


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

**A/N: No recent reviews. I hope someone is reading this little saga. To anyone who may have read it before, everything after this chapter has been rewritten and is different from the original.**

The next few days passed uneventfully. There were no more mysterious letters from the killer and no new leads. Starsky and Hutch had plenty of other cases to keep them occupied but Jim Tanner's murder was never far from their minds.

Cops are a closed society, a brotherhood bound together by a common goal and purpose. A cop killing always affected all the other men and women who wore the badge, reinforcing the inherent danger of their chosen profession. And when the killer apparently singled out his victim merely because he just happened to be a cop, it left his fellow police officers wondering if one of them could be the next random victim.

In between their routine paperwork and following leads in their other cases, Starsky and Hutch reviewed the files of their past cases trying to find any possible connection between Starsky and the killer. It was a daunting task with no guarantee of success. Even the criminals who were in prison couldn't be eliminated as suspects. They still had contacts on the outside that could arrange things for them. Every cop makes enemies during the course of their career and Starsky and Hutch had made more then their fair share over the years. Any one of them could have decided that it was time for a little payback.

Proceeding on the theory that the killer had singled out Starsky for a personal vendetta complicated things. Although his professional life would most likely hold the key they needed to solve the case, his personal life had to be considered too. The possibility that something in his past may be connected to the case could not be ignored. All they needed was a solid lead to shove them in the right direction. They had worked on cases in the past where a series of murders appeared to be unrelated until the case was solved.

"Damn," Starsky muttered as he shoved aside another stack of files. "At this rate, we're gonna end up with more suspects than we can handle."

"You wanna call it a day? Go back to my place and grab a pizza or something?" Hutch suggested. The dark circles under Starsky's eyes and the deep lines etched around the corners of his mouth spoke volumes. He was still being plagued by nightmares of his father's murder. The apparent similarities between that cold case and this one were uncanny. Hutch was convinced they were just weird coincidences that were triggering unpleasant memories in the brunet.

It wasn't in Starsky's nature to dwell on the past but his father's murder had been a traumatic turning point in his life that had left deep, unhealed scars. He had pushed his memories of that day so deep that some of the images were blurred while others stood out with crystal clarity. Sharing his memories of that day with Hutch had helped to relieve some of the brunet's tension but not all of it.

Starsky grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and the two men left the squad room. Starsky had been quiet and subdued all day and Hutch hoped that a relaxing evening at his apartment would help the troubled brunet sleep. As they walked across the parking lot towards Starsky's car, he suddenly spoke up.

"You know it was twenty-one years ago today that Pop was killed." He said quietly, as he fumbled to pull his keys from his tight jeans. Although his voice was calm, Hutch could hear the deep pain behind his words.

"I'm sorry, buddy." Hutch said suddenly realizing the reason for Starsky's depressed mood that day. He reached out and clasped the smaller man's shoulder, squeezing it tightly. "I didn't know. You should have told me sooner. We could have cut out early."

Hutch's velvety voice had the desired effect, calming and soothing Starsky. Starsky shrugged his shoulders, feigning indifference, as he unlocked the car door and slid underneath the wheel. He leaned over to unlock the other door for Hutch, who slid into the passenger's seat and folded his long legs under the dashboard. He reached out to turn off the police radio. They were signed out for the day and he didn't want any unexpected calls interrupting their evening. Starsky needed some downtime especially today. They made casual conversation as Starsky maneuvered his way through the rush hour traffic to Hutch's Venice Place apartment. Parking at the curb behind Hutch's latest in a long line of battered vehicles, the two friends climbed the steps to Hutch's second floor apartment and went inside.

Starsky grabbed two cold beers out of the refrigerator while Hutch used the phone to order them something to eat. Deciding against pizza, he called a Chinese carryout that delivered and ordered a variety of choices. Hanging up the phone, he gratefully accepted the ice cold beer from his partner.

"Food should be here in about half an hour. I ordered Chinese from Ty Lings."

"Sounds good." Starsky said, slouching down on the sofa and propping his feet up on the coffee table. He took a deep swallow of his beer and then leaned his head back against the couch cushions, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh as his exhaustion caught up with him.

"Why don't you crash here tonight?" Hutch suggested "You're too tired to drive all the way back to your place."

"Yeah, okay." Starsky mumbled in a contented voice. The two friends often stayed over at one apartment or the other. Not only did it save time in the mornings but it also kept them from being alone when one of them was dealing with an emotional crisis. Starsky was stronger than Hutch was emotionally. He had to be after all the traumas he had endured in his life.

But, even he had his limits and this case, combined with the memories surrounding his father's death had pushed him dangerously close to the edge. Raising his head, Starsky opened his eyes and gazed at his friend fondly. "Ya know, sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if Pop hadn't been killed. I'd have never ended up in Bay City, that's for sure."

"And we would never have met." Hutch pointed out. "I can't imagine my life without you in it, Gordo."

"Same here." Starsky admitted with a crooked smile. "Even if I had stayed in New York, I still think I would have been a cop."

"I think you would have been too." Hutch agreed "It's in your blood." He sensed that Starsky needed to talk about his father and his childhood, a topic that he generally avoided. Hutch knew that the anniversary of his father's murder was stirring up emotions that Starsky was not comfortable with.

"What about you? What would you have done if you hadn't become a cop?" Starsky asked as he settled into a comfortable position and curled his legs up beneath him.

"I don't know…probably finished med school and been miserable for the rest of my life." Hutch said lightly with just a hint of bitterness in his voice. "That was my father's dream…not mine."

Hutch's relationship with his family was strained. His parents had objected strongly when he decided to quit school and go to the police academy. His wealthy father had literally disowned Hutch for choosing his own path in life instead of the one that had been mapped out for him since birth. Their contact with their only child had been reduced to a card and a check on his birthday and an expensive gift at Christmas that Hutch usually had no use for.

"You'd have made a good doctor." Starsky said "You're real good at that kind of stuff." He thought about all the times he had been hurt and relied on his friend's loving care to recover.

"That's because I've had a lot of practice taking care of you." Hutch teased his friend as if he had read his thoughts. Their almost psychic connection at times was something that they both accepted without question. It had saved their lives more than once out there on the streets. To an outsider who didn't know them very well, their silent form of communication with one another could be unnerving.

"You remind me of Pop sometimes." Starsky said thoughtfully. "He cared about people and he wasn't afraid to show it. And he was smart too, a lot smarter than most people gave him credit for."

"Hmmmm…sounds a lot like his son." Hutch said with an affectionate smile. Underneath the tough, street-wise cop exterior, Starsky was the gentlest, most compassionate man that Hutch knew. He may not have a college education or the advantages of Hutch's more privileged upbringing, but he had a sharp, inquisitive mind and was constantly exploring new ideas.

The biggest mistake that most people made was underestimating Starsky because of his appearance or his background. He had helped Hutch become the man he was today and for that Hutch would forever be grateful. He was the closest, most loyal friend that Hutch had ever had and he valued that friendship more than he could ever express. Starsky was the one person in his life who had accepted Hutch the way he was with all his faults and insecurities, never expecting him to live up to any lofty expectations but just to be himself.

"I miss him so much." Starsky said in a quiet, subdued voice as he finished his beer and shoved himself to his feet to get another one. "He was a great dad, Hutch. The best."

Hutch nodded somberly. He knew that Starsky idolized his father and held his memories of him close to his heart. Hutch envied Starsky for the closeness that he shared with his large extended family. Whatever he had lacked in material possessions while he was growing up had been made up for with an abundance of love and understanding. His childlike enthusiasm for simple things was all part of the unique personality that made up the essence of David Michael Starsky. And Hutch wouldn't have changed anything about his impetuous friend for the world.

Their food arrived and Hutch paid the delivery boy, adding a generous tip. He carried the bags into the kitchen and sat them on the table. Starsky had fetched them both a fresh drink and sat the table so that they could enjoy their meal. While Hutch was more health conscious and his diet reflected that; with his cast iron stomach, Starsky would eat almost anything. Chinese was a good choice for both men and was one of the few ways that Starsky could be convinced to eat his vegetables.

After eating, Hutch put away the leftovers while Starsky washed the few dishes that they had used. Afterwards, they relaxed in front of the TV, watching one of the old movies that Starsky enjoyed. After it ended, Hutch went to bed in his room while Starsky made up the sofa.

"POP! NOOOO, POP. LOOK OUT…GET DOWN!" Starsky's voice cried out in the darkness, startling Hutch awake. He jumped out of bed and hurried to his friend's side. He found Starsky lying on the living room floor, tangled in the blanket he had been covered with. He was still asleep and crying out plaintively, swinging his hands around frantically as if warding off an unseen enemy.

"Starsky!" Hutch said, kneeling beside him and reaching out to gently caress a shoulder. "Come on, babe…wake up. It's just a dream." He continued talking to the distraught brunet in a calm, soothing voice as he gently eased him out of his nightmare.

Finally, Starsky's eyes opened and he stared into Hutch's concerned face. His face crumbled and the tears flooded his eyes as he reached for Hutch. Hutch pulled him into his arms and held him close as the brunet burst into tears. Hutch rocked him gently back and forth, comforting his friend as Starsky struggled to regain his composure. With anyone else, Starsky would never have broken down and given in to his emotions. It was a testament to the level of trust he had in Hutch that allowed him to vent his grief and pain.

Stealing a glance at his face, Hutch saw that Starsky had fallen back to sleep. Hutch smiled as he settled back against the sofa, content to hold his friend in his arms while he slept.


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

Starsky was still sleeping soundly the next morning when Hutch went out for an early morning run. As his long legs covered the miles on his chosen route, he let his mind drift. He often used his time running to think through a particularly difficult case. Running helped him think things through more clearly; ideas would come to mind that he would bounce off his partner later. The fact that the shooter had singled Starsky out as a target for his lettering writing campaign disturbed him. Somehow, Hutch didn't believe that it was just a coincidence.

He stopped abruptly as a thought suddenly occurred to him. Could this all be connected to Michael Starsky's murder somehow? The similarities were unsettling. But, if there was connection, why would the murderer wait over twenty years to target Starsky? Abandoning the rest of his run, he turned and headed back towards his apartment at a fast pace.

He climbed the enclosed stairway to the landing and reached out to open the door, stopping when he noticed that it was already ajar. Cursing silently under his breath for not wearing his gun while he ran, he shoved open the door with one hand as he threw himself against the wall. When there was no gunfire targeting him through the open doorway, he slowly edged his way around the doorframe and into his apartment.

At first glance, nothing appeared to be out of place. But, on closer examination, Hutch noticed an overturned kitchen chair and a broken glass on the kitchen floor. "Starsk!" He called out into the quiet apartment "Are you here?" There was no answer, not that he really expected one. A quick search of the apartment revealed nothing else out of place and no sign of his missing partner. Instinct told Hutch that wherever he was, Starsky had not left of his own free will.

Grabbing the phone, Hutch quickly dialed police headquarters and asked to be put through to Captain Dobey. Despite the early hour, he knew the Captain would probably already be in his office. He was proven right when the Captain's voice growled in his ear,

"Dobey."

"Cap, it's Hutch…"

"You better not be calling to tell me that you and your partner aren't coming in today. This department is short enough of manpower as it is." Dobey blustered

"Cap, Starsky's missing."

"What do you mean he's missing?"

"Just what I said. He's missing. I went out for a run and he was gone when I got back."

"Maybe he just stepped for a minute," Dobey suggested

"There was a broken glass in the kitchen and a chair overturned. Besides, Starsky would never leave like that without leaving me a note to tell me where he went." Hutch pointed out the obvious.

"What do you want to do?"

"Put out a missing persons.'

"That's a missing officer," Dobey reminded him unnecessarily. "I send a team right over." With those parting words, Dobey hung up.

Hutch replaced the receiver and anxiously paced the confines of his apartment until the crime lab boys arrived, followed closely by Captain Dobey himself. Dobey and Hutch stood in the living room, watching as the lab boys went about their tasks.

"You think this is connected to the Tanner murder?" Dobey questioned solemnly.

"I'd bet on it," Hutch answered in a gruffer than usual tone. "It all ties with the notes he's been getting lately."

"I'd tend to agree," Dobey said "But, we can't rule out the possibility of some other piece of scum that you two have busted who could have a motive,"

"So, what are we gonna do about it?"

"Let's see what the lab boys turn up and go from there,"

"This guy is a pro. They're not going to find anything." Hutch grumbled.

Hutch's words proved to be correct. The only fingerprints found in the apartment were Starsky and Hutch's own. The only evidence that someone else might have been in the apartment came from the broken glass, overturned chair and door that had been left ajar. Talking to the employees of the restaurant housed in the lower half of the building yielded nothing helpful and the second apartment across from Hutch's was vacant at the moment.

Hutch went to headquarters to begin the task of trying to find his missing partner. Still pondering the possibility that there could be a connection between Michael Starsky's murder and Jim Tanners, he decided to start at the beginning. He called the NYPD and asked to be faxed Michael Starsky's case file.

While he waited for the information to arrive from New York, he began reviewing previous case files that might provide a motive for Starsky's disappearance. Distracted by his own thoughts, the phone on his desk rang several times before he answered.

"Hutchinson," he snapped into the receiver.

"Ken?" a hesitant female voice said in his ear. "Is that you?"

"Who is this?" he asked impatiently.

"Rachel Starsky."

Hutch caught his breath sharply. The last thing he had been expecting was a call from Starsky's mother, especially now. "Uh…yeah, hello." He said apologetically "Star…uh…Dave isn't here right now. Can I take a message?'

"Actually, I called to talk to you." She said in a deceptively calm tone.

"Me?" Hutch responded in a puzzled voice. "How can I help you?"

"You can tell me why you asked for a copy of Michael's case file." She told him bluntly.

"How do you know?"

"Michael may be dead, but I still have connections of my own in the department." She told him. "Why did you ask for Michael's file?"

"There's a slim possibility that there may be a connection with a case we're working on right now." Hutch said evasively. He didn't want to share too much information with the woman unless he had to.

"Where is David?" she demanded, her voice turning hard as steel.

"Uh…he's not here right now. I can have him call you when he comes in."

"You're no better liar than my son," Rachel said with a hint of humor in her voice. "Where is David?"

"I don't know." Hutch admitted reluctantly.

There was a long pause then Rachel's voice said, "Is that all you're going to tell me?"

"I'm sorry," Hutch said quietly "You must know that I can't discuss an open case with you."

"So, wherever David is, and whatever you are not telling me, has to do with a case the two of you are working on. Correct?"

"Yes," Hutch admitted. There was no using lying to the woman. She was cop's widow and a cop's mother. There was no pulling the wool over her eyes.

"And for some reason, you seem to think that it's somehow connected to Michael's murder." Rachel concluded.

"That's a possibility that we're looking into."

"I see. I'd appreciate it if you would call when you're able to tell me something definite." Rachel said, hanging up before Hutch could reply.

Hutch let out a sigh as he hung up his phone. Rachel Starsky's call had unnerved him. Like her son, she seemed to have a uncanny sixth sense sometimes, especially where Starsky was concerned. Hutch reluctantly turned his attention back to the files lying on the desk in front of him.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER 8**

Cold. A chill in the air that made his bones ache. Pain in his head, a sharp pain that throbbed with every beat of his heart and seemed to pierce the back of his skull. After some effort, Starsky forced his heavy eyelids to open. He blinked a few times to clear his blurry vision and let his gaze sweep the immediate area as he tried to access his current situation.

He was lying on his left side on a rough concrete floor. His hands and feet were tightly tied with what felt like a thick rope of some sort. The numbness in his arms and legs meant he'd been tied up for quite some time before waking up. Besides the insistent throb in his head, his left shoulder sent spikes of pain down his arm when he shifted positions. From previous experience, he knew that it was dislocated. Since he was naturally left handed that put him at a distinct disadvantage.

He appeared to be in a basement or a similar sort of enclosure. There were no windows, leaving the room dark and gloomy with heavy shadows in the corners of the room. Along the far wall he could make out the outline of what seemed to be a crudely built staircase that led up to a trapdoor. From what he could make out it appeared to be the only way in or out of his current prison.

Starsky sighed heavily as he closed his eyes, taking several deep breathes and exhaling slowly. All he could do was wait. Wait to find out what his captor had in mind for him. He was sure that whatever it was, it wouldn't be pleasant.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hutch slammed the door as he stormed into his apartment. Frustrated and angry, he stomped into the kitchen and pulled a seldom used bottle of Jim Beam out of the cabinet.

He twisted off the cap and tipped the bottle, taking a long swallow. He coughed as the alcohol burned its way down his throat and into his stomach.

Carrying the bottle in his right hand, he walked over to the sofa and slouched down on the cushions. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. But, getting any sort of significant rest was out of the question until he found his missing partner. There was a dull ache behind his eyes that he hoped wouldn't grow into one of his migraines. He hadn't had any sleep since the day before when he had returned from his morning jog to find his partner missing.

He had spent the last twenty four hours reviewing old cases and identifying scumbags that had threatened them directly. The list just kept growing but, somehow, Hutch knew whoever had taken his partner wasn't connected to anyone they had busted. Still, he had to cover every base and follow up on every lead. It was the only hope he had of finding Starsky before it was too late.

After a few more swallows of whiskey, he relaxed enough to lean his head back against the sofa and close his eyes. He was drifting in that semi-relaxed state between sleep and alertness when a knock at the door made his sit up with a jerk, his eyes flying open in alarm. Instinctively, he pulled his gun from his shoulder harness and flipped off the safety. Rising to his feet, he cautiously approached the door with the gun held in the ready positon.

"Yeah?" Hutch said gruffly through the closed door.

"Ken?" a hesitant female voice said from the other side of the door. "It's Rachel. Rachel Starsky."

Stunned, Hutch flipped the safety back on the gun and lowered the weapon to his side as he fumbled with the lock. He opened the door to find Rachel Starsky standing on the stoop with a sheepish expression on her face.

She was an attractive woman in her early sixties with the same dark curls as her eldest son and similar coloring. Her petite size was misleading to anyone who didn't know her. Hutch knew from experience that she had the same inner strength and stubborn nature as her first born son.

"Rachel?" Hutch said in a dumbfounded voice as his weary mind tried to determine why she was standing at his door.

"I'm sorry to just show up like this," Rachel said apologetically. She glanced at the gun he still clutched in his hand with a pointed smile. "I can see that you weren't expecting any company."

"Uh,..I'm sorry," Hutch said sheepishly as he re-holstered his weapon and opened the door wider. "Please, come in."

"Thank you, dear." She said as she stepped into the apartment. "I won't take up too much of your time." She turned to look at Hutch with a stern expression on her face. "Where is my son? Where is David?"

Hutch hesitated momentarily but he knew there was no point lying to the woman. She was too perceptive. "I don't know," he admitted "He's been missing since yesterday morning."

"I knew something was wrong after we spoke on the phone," Rachel said somberly "Then when I tried calling David all evening without any answer, I knew I had to come out here to find out for myself what was going on."

"Rachel, I'm sorry," Hutch told her quietly "But, you know that I can't discuss an open case with you."

"No, but maybe there's a way I can help you," Rachel said "How much has David told you about the day his father was killed?"

"Why?"

"Because there's obviously a connection between Michael's murder and whatever is going on now…or you wouldn't have asked for Michael's case file."

"We have no proof that there's a connection…we're just covering all the possibilities."

"Has there been another murder? One that's similar to the way that Michael was killed? Another cop…with a family?" Hutch didn't answer but the look in his eyes told Rachel all she needed to know. "That's it, isn't it? How similar was the murder to Michael?"

"It was another cop, a uniformed officer." Hutch said deciding to be honest. He was too tired to keep playing games. "Early thirties with a wife and two sons, age 9 and 13. He was gunned down in front of his family in a drive by shooting."

"Almost exactly like Michael," Rachel said as she sank down on the sofa with a heavy sigh. She looked at Hutch with haunted eyes "Did David ever tell you that his father died in his arms?"

"Yes,"

"He was only eleven almost twelve…still just a baby but trying so hard to be a man." Rachel said, saddened by her own memories. She sighed again as if deciding to continue with her story or not. "He loved his father so much…when he was shot, David was hysterical. He just kept screaming and wouldn't let go of his father until one of paramedics gave him a shot to sedate him so they could take his father's body away." She bit on her lower lip anxiously, "He was so traumatized that he's blocked out a lot of what happened that day and for weeks afterwards. I thought at the time that was the best thing for him. That he was better off not remembering…but now I'm not so sure."

"I don't understand," Hutch said in a confused voice as he sat down on the sofa beside her to listen to the rest of her story.

"David saw the man who killed his father…he even gave the police his description. The police artist made a sketch based on his description…but they never found him."

"And he doesn't remember that?"

"No…I was so afraid that the killer would come back after David…especially if he knew that David could identify him. There were a couple of incidents that happened that made me wonder…."

"What happened?"

"David said a car followed him home from school a couple of times and there was one time when he was almost hit by a car crossing the street. But, the police could never prove that there was a connection to Michael's murder. Then when David started hanging with the wrong crowd and getting into trouble, it seemed like the perfect excuse to send him out here to live with Rosie and Al. He was only 14 and it was years before he forgave me for sending him away."

"You never told him the real reason?"

Rachel shook her head, "I didn't want to frighten him without a good reason." A single tear ran down her cheek. "He thought I sent him away because I didn't want him anymore…and I let him believe that…" She broke down and began to sob quietly.

Touched by her pain, Hutch gently wrapped her in his arms and let her weep. Could the story she had just told be the connection between Starsky and Jim Tanner's killer? Could it be the same man? Was this whole thing part of a larger scheme to finally silence Starsky? Was his father's killer after the son who had seen his face and could identify him? Hutch felt his heart clench with fear. In some twisted sort of way, it all made sense.

And if that was the connection, then Starsky was in mortal danger from a man who had waited two decades to eliminate the only living witness to a twenty year old homicide.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER 9**

Lying in the darkness, no light, no sense of time, Starsky had no idea how long he had been held prisoner. His limbs had gone numb some time ago and after a losing struggle to hold it, he had lost control of his full bladder. Now the heavy wet denim of his jeans was irritating the skin on his inner thighs and groin.

His stomach cramped from hunger, his throat and mouth parched and dry. He found himself wondering if his captor's intention was to just leave him alone in darkness to die from dehydration and hunger. But, it had never been in his nature to give up and he didn't intend to start to now. He would fight until God himself forced him to leave this life behind. He wasn't afraid to die. He had faced death too many times in his life to be afraid of it, but he didn't want to die alone.

He knew that Hutch would tearing the city apart looking for him just like he would be doing if their positions were reversed. But, it was big city and Hutch would have very few clues to go on. Starsky knew that Hutch would never give up looking for him until he found him. All Starsky could do was pray that it wouldn't be too late.

A loud scrapping sound from overhead startled him from his morbid thoughts. Every heightened sense went on full alert as his gaze darted to the trapdoor. A thin glimmer of light was blocked out by the silhouette of a large figure climbing down the crudely built stairway.

When the man reached the bottom of the stairs, he lifted his right arm and turned on a flashlight, the sudden glare of light temporarily blinding Starsky. He turned his head away to avoid the unexpected brightness, dots dancing behind his closed lids.

"So, we finally meet. It's been a long time." A graveled voice said, closer than Starsky had expected. His eyes snapped open as the man knelt down beside him, a thin smile on the ragged face with the cold, dead eyes. Starsky instinctively memorized everything he could about the man.

Dark hair that was thinning on top, a deeply lined face with dark eyes that glared from under heavy brows, thin lips and nicotine stained teeth. A compact body with heavily muscled forearms and shoulders. There was something about the man's face that seemed vaguely familiar although Starsky had no idea where he had seen it before.

"What's the matter, boy?" The man sneered "Don't you remember me? I sure remember you. I've spent twenty years trying to find you."

A sudden chill settled over Starsky, creeping into his bones, and it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. A heaviness in his chest made it hard to breathe and his stomach twisted into knots. He gasped as a rush of repressed memories carried him back to the day his father was murdered. The man crouched in front of him was the man who had killed his father. A face that had been burned into his memory that day but then that memory was buried deep within his mind to shield him from the trauma of that day.

Cruel fingers grabbed his chin, bruising painful fingers, forcing him to look into the man's cold, flat eyes. "You do remember me, don't you? Twenty years I've spent trying to find you…to finish what I started that day." He laughed a hard brittle sound that sent a chill down Starsky's spine. "Turned out that it wasn't that hard to find you after all. All I had to do was buddy up to little brother back in New York, buy him a few beers, slip him some kick ass blow…and he spilled his guts about his big brother…the hot shot cop out in California."

"If you're going to kill me than why don't you do it? Get it over with." Starsky said through tightly clenched teeth.

"All in good time…all in good time," the man said with another cold laugh. "I've had a long time to decide how to take care of our little problem…" A thin smile tugged at his lips, "Too bad I didn't know that you couldn't remember too much about that day…including the fact that you saw my face. Guess I was lucky that you were too shook up to give the cops a very good description…but, it was close enough. I had to lay low till the heat died down enough for me to get out of town."

Any other emotion Starsky might have felt was overridden by the pure rage that consumed him. This was the man who had changed his life forever, the man who had taken away his father and forever altered his family. This was the man who had taken away his childhood.

"Fuck you, you sick son of a bitch!" Starsky growled "I'm not afraid of you. Untie me and we'll see who the better man is!"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He stuck out without any warning, punching his fist into Starsky's face with enough force to break his nose. A gush of blood flowed from Starsky's nose and down his chin, the pain making him bite down on his tongue to still an outraged cry. The man stood up and kicked Starsky in the stomach, hard enough to lift his body a few inches off the cold, concrete floor. More kicks followed until Starsky finally lost consciousness, slipping into the darkness and away from the pain.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hutch awoke with a start, cringing at the cramp in his neck and shoulders from the awkward position he had been sleeping in on the sofa. He chastised himself for falling asleep but his exhausted body had refused to go any further without some rest.

Rachel Starsky's unexpected arrival the night before had taken him by surprise and her confession about her real motives for sending Starsky to live with his relatives in California had been a revelation. Suddenly the connection between Michael Starsky's murder and their current case made sense and explained Starsky's mysterious abduction. Unfortunately, it also clarified the danger Starsky faced.

After she had regained her composure, Hutch had called Captain Dobey to bring him up to date on this new development. When the Captain's wife, Edith, found out that Rachel was in town, she had insisted that she stay with them until they had some news about Starsky. Rachel had graciously accepted Edith's offer and Hutch had driven her to the Dobey home. He knew that he was leaving her in good hands and that Starsky would approve.

Hutch shoved himself to his feet with a groan, rotating his head to work out the kinks in his neck as he walked into the bathroom. Stripping off the clothes that he had been wearing for over two days, he stepped into the tub, pulled the curtain and turned on the shower. He let the hot water beat down on his tense muscles until it began to turn cold but his back still felt tight when he stepped out of the tub and began to dry off. After a quick shave, he dressed in fresh clothes and went to headquarters to review the case file on Michael Starsky in depth.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER 10**

Hutch slammed the door in frustration as he stormed out of Captain Dobey's office. The other officers present in the squad room tactfully avoided glancing at the furious blond as he stomped out of the room. They had all heard the raised voices from behind the Captain's closed door and knew that Hutch's anger stemmed from no new leads on his partner's disappearance.

Hutch's anger had cooled somewhat by the time he reached his car. Digging his keys out of his jeans, he unlocked the door and slid beneath the wheel. He stuck the key in the ignition then hesitated before starting the engine. He took several deep breaths and exhaled slowly to calm himself.

"Damn it, Starsk," he muttered under his breath "Where are you?"

With a heavy sigh, he turned the key and pulled into the street merging easily with the late afternoon traffic. He drove to The Pits and parked on the street in front of the building. With heavy steps, he walked into the bar and sat on an empty stool at the end of the bar.

Huggy's head waitress, Diana, noticed him immediately and flashed him a warm smile as she walked over to greet him. Her white tee shirt stretched tight across her ample bosom and her short skirt barely covered all the essential parts. It was the standard uniform for all of Huggy's female employees and it definitely helped to generate generous tips.

"Hi, handsome," Diana said in a deep throaty voice "What can I get ya?"

"I'll take a beer and a chef's salad with ranch dressing on the side. And could you tell Huggy that I'm here?"

"You bet, Sugar. Huggy's in the office. I'll let him know you're here." She filled a frosty mug with beer and sat it on the bar in front of him. Then she turned, pausing at the pass through window to give the chef Hutch's order before continuing on through the swinging doors at the far end of the bar.

Hutch took a long swallow of his beer, savoring the chill of the frosty brew as it slid down his throat. Starsky had been missing for four days and the minutes kept slipping away with no new leads. Hutch was exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally. He'd had very little sleep, spending every waking minute spent trying to find his missing partner. Any real rest was out of the question until he did.

He looked up as Huggy came through the swinging doors at the end of the bar and sauntered down the aisle towards him. Today he was dressed more conservative than usual in a pair of white pants with an electric blue silk shirt

"Hutch, my man," he greeted the weary detective "No offense, but you look like something the cat chewed up and spit out about two days ago."

"I feel like it," Hutch said with a grunt. There was a slight lull in their conversation when Diana appeared with Hutch's food. As she walked away, Hutch looked at his old friend and said, "I don't know what to do, Hug…I'm running out of places to look."

"Sounds like you need some sleep, my friend," Huggy pointed out "But, I know that's out of the question as long as your better half is in the wind." He leaned in closer "How's his mama holding up?"

"She's doing better than I am," Hutch admitted with a rueful smile. "The only thing we know for sure is that we think whoever has him is the same shooter that killed his dad twenty years ago."

"Yeah, I heard that. Word on the streets is that little Mo Mo lit out and ain't comin' back cause he got himself caught up in something he didn't plan on."

"Yeah, I heard that too. What about the driver? Any news on him"

"Nothing definite, but there's a rumor in the air that he is no longer with us if you catch my drift."

"Yeah, that seems to be this guy's M.O. Leave no witnesses behind…including a kid that saw your face twenty years ago."

"Man, he must be one heavy dude to come after Curly for something he saw when he was a kid."

"Yeah, and Starsky didn't even remember a lot about that day until he started having nightmares after Jim Tanner was murdered." Hutch took a few bites of his salad then pushed the plate away. Although he knew he should eat to keep up his strength, his appetite was non-existent.

"You're gonna find him in time," Huggy said confidently. He had seen his two friends through similar situations more times then he cared to remember and somehow they always seemed to prevail. He refused to believe that this time would be any different.

"I hope you're right, Hug." Hutch said. He dug some money out of his pocket and laid it on the bar for his uneaten meal. As he slid off the stool, Huggy reached out and grasped his shoulder in a gesture of comradely. The two men locked eyes, an unspoken message passing between them. It was nothing like the unspoken communication that Starsky and Hutch shared but the message was clear. Hutch smiled, grateful for a friend like Huggy that he could turn to at times like this.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cold, darkness, and pain, sensations blending together in his mind. Starsky was too tired to open his eyes. His stomach cramped with hunger and his mouth was dry since he couldn't breath freely through his nose. After breaking his nose and kicking him around a bit, his captor had resorted to taunting Starsky with his plans for him while Starsky drifted between a state of awareness and unconsciousness.

The sound of a low howl in the distance startled Starsky and his eyes snapped open. Confused and disoriented, it took him a few minutes to orient himself to his surroundings. He was no longer in the darkened room with the concrete floor, but lying on his side outside. The landscape around him was barren and dry. It took a moment for him to realize that he must be somewhere in the desert.

It was dark and the sky overhead was overcast hiding the moon. As he shifted position, a sharp pain in chest almost doubled him over and his left hip screamed in agony. Obviously his captor had beaten him again at some point, breaking some ribs and damaging his hip to incapacitate him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his erratic breathing. It appeared that his captor had decided to abandon him in the desert, leaving him to die a miserable, debilitating death. He knew that the greatest threat besides thirst was the extremes in temperature. At night it could get bitterly cold and during the day the temperatures were well over a hundred degrees.

Even in his semi-comatose state, Starsky knew that it was vital to find some sort of shelter. Forcing his eyes open again, he peered into the darkness. In the distance to his left, he could see the silhouette of a group of cactus and some tumbleweeds. Since that appeared to be his only option, he reached out with his right hand and began to slowly and painfully drag himself in that direction. It was slow going, a few inches at a time, with frequent breaks to catch his breath and get control over the pain that wracked his body relentlessly. Dawn was breaking over the horizon when he finally reached his destination. He collapsed in an exhausted heap even as his consciousness slipped away.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hutch awoke with a start, sitting upright in the chair at the kitchen table where he had fallen asleep. His heart was pounding frantically in his chest and his breathing was rapid and erratic. He swallowed the panic that crept up his throat as he struggled to control the sudden fear that overwhelmed him. Somehow, he instinctively knew that Starsky was in some kind of immediate danger and that time was running out. Hutch had to find him and he had to find him soon or it would be too late.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER 11**

_Hutch looked around at the desolate surrounding trying to get his bearings. He couldn't identify any landmarks that might tell him his exact location. Obviously somewhere in the desert, hard packed sand, sagebrush and cactus as far as he could see. In the distance he could see the silhouette of a lone man standing with his back toward Hutch. With hurried steps, Hutch strode across the sand towards the lone figure._

"_Starsky?" he said in a hushed voice as he drew closer to the man. "Is that you?"_

"_Hey, Hutch," Starsky said without turning around "Where ya been? I've been waiting on you. I just about gave up…didn't think you were coming."_

"_Of course I'm coming, but you gotta help me out here, buddy, and tell me where you are."_

"_I don't know where the hell I am," Starsky said with a bitter laugh. "That's your job…you're supposed to be the brains of this outfit."_

"_It looks like the desert. Is that it, Starsk? Are you somewhere in the desert?"_

"_I guess…" Starsky said in a quiet, far away voice. "I'm tired, Hutch…real tired. I don't know how much longer I can wait on you."_

"_Hang on a little longer, pal…I'll find you. I Promise." Hutch said trying to keep his voice calm and level._

"_I'll try, Hutch…I'll try…"_

"_Promise me." Hutch insisted. He knew that if Starsky made him a promise he would do everything in his power to keep it._

"_Sure, Blondie…" Starsky said with a soft chuckle. "I promise…" Without another word Starsky began to walk away._

"_Starsky! Wait!" Hutch said, reaching out for the retreating figure as it disappeared into the thickening mist. "Don't go! Don't leave me!"_

_He stood there, unable to move, as Starsky slowly vanished from sight. _

Hutch awoke with a start, gasping for air as if he had just completed a marathon. It took a moment for his head to clear and for him to realize it had just been a dream. He scrambled to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. Falling to his knees in front of the commode, he retched and retched until his throat ached. But, with nothing in his stomach to bring up, all he was left with was the foul aftertaste of bile in his mouth. Finally, he shoved himself to his feet and leaned heavily against the sink. He took several deep breathes and exhaled slowly to calm his pounding heart.

With a shaking hand, he reached out and turned on the cold water. He let it run for a few minutes to get it as cold as possible, then he cupped his hand beneath the stream and threw some on his face. Still using his hand, he drank some of the water to rinse the bitter taste from his mouth.

The ringing of the telephone startled him. Hurrying back into the bedroom, he grabbed the receiver before the phone could ring again and said, "Yeah?" His voice cracked and came out gruffer than he intended.

"Hutch?" Dobey's somber voice said in his ear "You better get down here right away."

"What's up?" Hutch asked in a carefully controlled voice even as his stomach twisted into anxious knots and a cold sweat beaded on his face.

"A man turned himself in a couple of hours ago. He claims he's the one who killed Tanner." Dobey paused but not before Hutch heard the hesitation in his voice.

"What else, Cap?" Hutch demanded

"He was covered with blood…and he claims that it belongs to Starsky."

"I'm on my way," Hutch said. He slammed down the receiver and pulled on the same clothes he had worn the day before. Moving on automatic pilot, he left his apartment and climbed into his car. Ignoring normal procedure, he used the lights and siren to clear the way as he broke the speed limit and more than a few traffic laws in his haste to get to headquarters.

Dobey looked up when the door to his office burst open and Hutch stormed into the room. Un-intimidated by the wild look on his man's face, Dobey said calmly, "Sit down, Hutch and listen to me carefully."

"I wanna talk to the suspect." Hutch growled fiercely ignoring the order to sit down.

"Not until you sit down and listen to me," Dobey insisted, motioning at the chair with a stiff arm as he threw his angry detective a determined glare.

Hutch slumped down in the chair with a grunt and folded his arms across his chest as he stared back at Dobey defiantly. Once Dobey was sure Hutch was going to stay put, at least for the moment, he leaned back in his chair and began.

"The suspect's name is Brian Combs and he's originally from New York. He was the prime suspect in at least three unsolved murders back there…including Michael Starsky. He's never left any evidence behind that could connect him to the murders…including witnesses. We suspect that he may have been involved with at least ten other murders and several disappearances in California in the last six years. Over the past ten years, he's been slowly working his way here from out east."

"Looking for Starsky," Hutch said with a grim set to his mouth.

"If anything he told us so far is true," Dobey said "It's not easy to check out his story when there isn't anyone who can collaborate it."

"So why give himself up now? Why admit to anything?" Hutch growled

"He's says he finally eliminated his one mistake so now he can quit." Dobey told him with a grunt.

"That sounds like bullshit to me," Hutch said "He knows we don't have anything to tie him to any of the murders. Turning himself in and confessing to anything is a death sentence."

"He's already under a death sentence," Dobey said "He claims he's got terminal cancer and only has a few months left."

"So he's tying up loose ends? Where's Starsky? What'd he do with his body?" Hutch demanded, his rigid control starting to slip as he considered the truth of what he had just heard.

"He claims he dumped him in the desert but he refuses to say where." Dobey said quietly.

"When?" Hutch said, his voice barely above a whisper as the dream he'd had came flooding back.

"Two days ago." Dobey said

"I wanna talk to him myself," Hutch said in a determined voice

"I assumed you would," Dobey said "He's in interrogation room 6. I wanted to talk to you first and let you know what we had already found out," Dobey shoved himself to his feet. "I'll be in the other room…just in case,"

The two men left the office through the door that opened directly into the hallway. Hutch would confront the suspect while Dobey watched and listened from the observation room.


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER 12**

_Coldness, yet heat so hot that it took his breath away. A swirling darkness as far as he could see. No sense of time or place just an empty void that surrounded him. Starsky's heart pounded with fear, hammering inside his chest. Fear of the unknown and the greatest fear of all, the fear of dying alone. _

"_Hutch," he whispered the name in his head even as the darkness pulled him under and into oblivion._

Hutch started even as he reached out to open the door to the interrogation room. The images had flashed through his mind unbidden catching him by surprise. In his heart, he knew that time was rapidly running out for his partner and best friend. It was imperative that he find his missing partner as soon as possible or it would be too late. And the only person who could give him the information he so desperately needed to do that was waiting behind the door in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, Hutch shoved open the door and stepped inside, his cold, hard gaze settling on the man sitting at the table in the middle of the room. Any other man would have been intimidated by his deadly glare, but Brian Combs just stared back with a cold, hard stare of his own.

"You must be his partner," Combs said in a calm, level voice. "He cried out for you at the end…"

Hutch stroke across the room and slammed his hand against the surface of the table as he leaned down to lock eyes with the suspect in a silent battle of wills. "Where is my partner?" Hutch demanded "Where is David Starsky?"

"By now, he should be dead…" Combs said with a thin smile. "I'm sure the buzzards are feasting on his flesh even as we speak."

Hutch grabbed the front of the man's shirt, bunching the material in his fist as he snarled in a threatening voice, "You have two minutes to tell me where to find him or I will personally throw you out the window and you can go to hell where you belong,"

"Maybe I'll see your partner there. I'll be sure and tell him you said hello." Combs said with a taunting chuckle.

Hutch drug the suspect out of his chair and slammed him back against the wall. He pressed his right forearm against Combs' throat, restricting his air, as he hissed, "I'll kill you right now unless you tell me what I want to know."

"Go ahead; your partner's still going to be dead."

Pure rage filled Hutch's entire body as he pressed harder against the other man's throat taking a small amount of satisfaction from see Comb's face turn a dusky shade of blue as he gasped for breath. So intent was he on exacting revenge on the man tormenting him, that he never heard the door slam open.

Hands grabbed him, trying to pull him off his victim without much success until Dobey's gruff voice bellowed "STAND DOWN, SERGEANT HUTCHINSON!"

Hutch slowly released his deadly hold and stepped back, watching passively as Combs slid down the wall to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. As his head cleared, he heard Dobey's voice in his ear, "Come with me. Now, Detective!"

Hutch turned his back on the suspect and blindly followed his Captain out of the room. By the time they reached the Captain's office, the big blond's temper had cooled enough for him to have calmed down somewhat.

Dobey sank down at his desk with a heavy sigh while Hutch remained standing, pacing the room like a caged tiger. Dobey eyed the second half of his best team warily. Starsky's volatile temper might be legendary but Hutch's temper was just as deadly if not more so than his easily agitated partner. And that temper was never more evident than when his partner's life was in danger.

"That was a stupid stunt," Dobey said calmly "You'll be lucky if I.A. doesn't yank your badge if they catch wind of it."

"Let 'em," Hutch growled in an irritated voice as he continued to pace the floor. "If Starsky's dead then I.A. can have my damn badge!"

"Calm down," Dobey ordered "You knew going in there that he wasn't going to tell you anything. He just wanted to rattle your cage."

"Starsky's still alive, Cap," Hutch said "I can feel it…but he's dying…it'll be too late if we don't find him soon."

"And how do you purpose we do that? The desert is just too big to search and we have no idea where Combs dumped him at." Dobey said in an attempt to be the voice of reason.

"Some of the blood on his shirt was still fresh when he turned himself in that means he couldn't have taken him very far." Hutch said with a hint of hope creeping into his voice. "A few miles at the most…"

"But, we still don't know which direction to start looking in."

"We have to try." Hutch pleaded "If you don't help me, then I'll do it myself and I won't stop looking until I find him and bring him home."

"I never said I wouldn't help you but, I can only spare a few men to lend a hand and I can only give you a few days to look."

"I want Simmons and Babcock." Hutch said

Dobey nodded solemnly. "Go talk to them. If they're on board then I'll take you off the schedule for the next three days."

"Thanks, Cap." Hutch said gratefully as he turned to leave the office. Dobey's voice stopped him at the door.

"I know how you feel, son…I want to find him too…but you have to face facts…you could be too late. He could already be gone."

"I still need to find him and bring him home." Hutch said in a determined voice as he left the office, closing the door softly behind him.


	13. Chapter 13

**CHAPTER 13**

Hutch paused to take a drink of water from his water bottle. The sun beat down relentlessly, making it hard to breath in the unbearable desert heat. Hutch's fair skin was already turning red on his face and exposed forearms. With the help of two colleagues, Simmons and Babcock, Hutch had spent the last twelve hours searching for his missing partner.

With nothing more than his instinct to guide him, Hutch had chosen the stretch of desert they were presently searching. Guided by the unique bond between them, he could sense that Starsky was still alive but not for long if Hutch didn't find him soon. He could tell that Simmons and Babcock were both frustrated but they kept their doubts about the search for Starsky to themselves.

Hutch let his gaze sweep across the horizon, focusing on a strand of sagebrush and cactus in the distance. Without any conscious thought, he began to walk in that direction. As he got closer, he picked up his pace until he was almost running. Babcock and Simmons trailed behind not sure what had Hutch so fired up but trusting his lead.

As Hutch reached the thickest part of the sagebrush, he saw the curled up figure lying on the ground, sheltered from the sun by the thick brush. "Starsky!" he cried. In his heart he knew that the still figure was his missing partner and not just another victim who got lost in the desert. Fighting his way to his partner's side, he knelt down beside him and gently turned Starsky over so he could see his face.

Starsky's face was gaunt and dry, the skin cracked and red from exposure to the desert sun. His body was emaciated, the lean frame almost skeletal. There were numerous bruises in various stages of healing along with festering cuts and abrasions. With a trembling hand, Hutch reached out and pressed two fingers against the artery in Starsky's neck. At first he couldn't feel anything but then he felt a faint unsteady beat beneath his touch.

He let out the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding as he gently gathered his partner in his arms and held him close. Leaning down until he was speaking directly in Starsky's curl covered ear, he said "I'm here, Buddy. I got you…just hang on and we'll get you out of here."

"Holy shit," Simmons muttered under his breath when he saw Hutch with his fallen partner. "We did it. We found him."

"We've got to get him out of here," Hutch said in a strained voice. "He's not going to last much longer if we don't."

"I'll go back and bring the car up closer," Babcock said. He threw a cautious look at his own partner. They both knew that time was of the essence and that Starsky was more dead than alive. Simmons nodded his head silently telling his partner that he would stay with Starsky and Hutch until he returned.

As Babcock hurried back in the direction they had come from, Simmons pulled a clean hanky out of his pocket and used the water in his bottle to wet it. Kneeling down beside Hutch, he handed the tall blond the went cloth. Smiling his thanks, Hutch began to gently bath his partner's face and neck, squeezing the rag occasionally to let a few drops seep between the unconscious brunet's dry, cracked lips.

"Hang on, Starsk…don't you dare die on me," Hutch said in a broken voice "Do you hear me? Don't you dare die on me or I'll kick your ass…" His voice softened almost to a whisper "Please don't die…I need you…I can't do this alone…not without you…"

Simmons kept his eyes focused on the ground, not wanting to intrude on this intensely personal moment between his two friends. The partnership and friendship between Starsky and Hutch was legendary. Even other long term partnerships didn't share the closeness that these two did. It was common knowledge that the two were a unit, two bodies sharing one soul. If anything happened to either one of them, there was no doubt that the other one would find a way to follow, unable and unwilling to go on alone.

The sound of an engine approached as Babcock drove his battered blue sedan across the hard packed sand, parking just beyond the brush. Simmons reached out and gently clasped Hutch's shoulder to get his attention.

"The car's here," he said softly.

Hutch nodded as he gently slipped his arms around Starsky's limp body and lifted him cradled in his embrace as he unsteadily rose to his feet. With Simmons leading the way, Hutch carried Starsky through the brush and to the car. He settled in the back seat with Starsky held securely in his arms. Simmons slid into the front seat with Babcock, who hit the gas and headed back to the city. As they got close to the city, Simmons flipped on the siren and slapped the bubble light on the roof to clear the way as Babcock raced for the closest hospital.

In the back seat, Hutch held his dying partner close, murmuring quietly in his ear, words of comfort as he begged his partner repeatedly to hang on and not to die. As soon as Babcock pulled up in front of the emergency entrance to the hospital, Simmons jumped out of the car and opened the back door to help Hutch out of the car with his injured partner.

As Hutch stormed through the entrance to the emergency room, several members of the nursing staff immediately ran to his aid.

"Help him! Please help him!" Hutch begged as he gently laid Starsky down on a gurney.

An intern immediately started a preliminary exam, yelling out to his co-workers. "He's coding!" The atmosphere grew tense as the staff began life saving measures even as they pushed Starsky into the interior of the emergency room.

No…Starsky!" Hutch said in a choked voice. Babcock and Simmons both grabbed an arm to keep the distraught blond from following his dying partner through the swinging doors that opened into the closed area of the hospital.

"Come, Hutch," Babcock said as he gently tugged Hutch towards the plastic sofa against one wall. "Let's have a seat and let the doctors take care of Starsky."

"I'll give Dobey as call." Simmons volunteered anxious to do everything he could to ease the burden on his friends.

Hutch barely noticed as Babcock helped him to the sofa and prompted him to sit. His gaze locked on the swinging doors that separated him from his partner, his mind in that room with Starsky as the waiting began.


	14. Chapter 14

**CHAPTER 14**

Hutch alternated between pacing the length of the waiting room and slouching on the sofa staring at the doors that barred him from his partner's side. Other officers from their precinct had stopped by when they heard that their missing comrade had been found. Huggy Bear and Captain Dobey relaxed in two chairs watching the nervous, agitated blond as he paced. It had been over seven hours since Starsky had been brought into the emergency room, barely clinging to life. With each minute that passed without any news on Starsky's present condition, Hutch grew more frustrated and anxious.

Whenever the doors to the trauma rooms would swing open, he would stop his pacing to stare but the person coming through those doors never had the news that he longed to hear. His bladder was full but he refused to leave the room even for the brief time it would take to relieve himself.

The doors swung open again and a older man with shortly clipped gray hair stepped into the waiting room. He wore a pair of sweat stained green scrubs and he looked tired. In a gravelly voice, he said, "Is anyone here for David Starsky?

"We are," Hutch said as he rushed across the room and almost got in the doctor's face. Huggy and Captain Dobey followed and stood directly behind him. The doctor looked at the three men standing in front of him with an arched brow. None of them resembled his patient which made him reluctant to share any information with them. Sensing his hesitation, Hutch scowled at the doctor and said, "I'm Detective Sergeant Hutchinson and Detective Starsky is my partner. This is our commanding officer, Captain Dobey of the B.C.P.D. and this is a close friend. We are the closest thing to family he has in the city."

"I see but hospital policy prevents me from sharing any information about a patient with anyone other than their immediate family without the patient's permission."

"Check his file," Hutch said impatiently "I have medical power of attorney. So, tell me how my partner is or do I have to go back there and find out for myself?"

The doctor paused as he considered Hutch's words. Finally, he shrugged and said "Why don't we go somewhere more private where we can talk?" He turned and led the way to a door marked private on the opposite side of the room. The four men stepped inside and the doctor closed the door behind them.

"Please, have a seat." The doctor said with a wave at the comfortable looking leather couch.

"I'd rather stand," Hutch said firmly as he stared the doctor down, deliberately intimidating him to get the information he needed about his partner. Caption Dobey and Huggy Bear stood by silently watching the exchange between Hutch and the doctor.

"Suit yourself," the doctor said with weary sigh. "My name is Doctor Filmont and I'll be David's primary doctor while he's with us. At the moment he is in critical condition and if he makes it through the next forty-eight hours, then he has fighting change of recovering from his injuries."

"What exactly are those injuries?" Dobey asked before Hutch could reply.

"As I'm sure you know, he was severely dehydrated and he is suffering from second degree burns, heat stroke, and malnutrition. He also has several lacerations and abrasions, some of which were infected, and contusions in various stages of healing." The doctor said as he perched on the edge of the desk facing the sofa. He had a collapsed lung and some internal bleeding that required immediate surgery. And as if that weren't enough, he also has a badly broken left arm, some broken ribs, and his kidneys are badly bruised which made it necessary to insert a catheter to give them a change to heal."

"I need to see him," Hutch said

"Right now he's still in recovery and is unconscious. Why don't you go home and get some rest? You can come back in the morning." The doctor suggested.

"I'm not going anywhere except to my partner's room," Hutch declared firmly.

"Doctor," Dobey said before the situation spiraled out of control. "I think you will find that Detective Starsky will recover much better if his partner is allowed unrestricted access to his room. I realize it's out of the ordinary but I can promise you that you'll have your hands full trying to keep Detective Hutchinson out of the room if you don't."

One look at the determined look on Hutch's face and the doctor decided it would be in his best interest to agree. He nodded. "I'll make a note in the chart." He said "As long as you don't interfere with Mr. Starsky's care and leave the room if the nurses ask you to."

"He'll do whatever you ask," Dobey assured the doctor "As long as he can be with his partner."

"He'll be in the ICU." Dr. Filmont said "It's on the fifth floor."

Without another word, Hutch abruptly left the office. The doctor looked at Dobey and Huggy with a thin smile. "Is he always this intense?"

"Only when it comes to his partner," Dobey told him with a thin smile of his own.

"Believe me, Doc," Huggy said "You did the right thing. You don't ever want to keep those two apart when one of them is hurt."

"I assume that all your officers aren't this close to their partners," the doctor said as the three of them left the room.

"No, those two are unique." Dobey said with a soft chuckle.

"Ain't that the truth," Huggy muttered as he followed Dobey down the hallway towards the front entrance.

Meanwhile, Hutch had made his way to the ICU on the fifth floor. Luckily one of the nurses on duty knew him and Starsky and led him to the room where Starsky would be brought once he left the recovery room. Hutch settled down in the comfortable recliner beside the bed to wait. As he finally relaxed, his exhaustion caught up with him and he felt his eyes drifting shut as he fell into a deep slumber.


	15. Chapter 15

**CHAPTER 15**

**A/N: Hopefully this chapter will clear up any confusion from the last chapter concerning Rachel Starsky's presence. Actually, it is entirely my fault. I had a blonde moment and forgot that Rachel was in Bay City. LOL.**

"Are you sure that David is alright?" Rachel Starsky asked in an anxious voice as Edith Dobey drove through the busy streets to the hospital where her son lay in intensive care.

"I'm sure he's just fine," Edith tried to reassure her. "I know Ken feels terrible about not calling you sooner."

"We still wouldn't have been able to get back to the city any sooner," Rachel said.

"Well, I feel bad about suggesting this trip. If I hadn't, you would have been able to be with David sooner." Edith said apologetically. Two days ago, Edith and Captain Dobey had both suggested a short trip to Mexico since Rachel had never been there. They had hoped that the trip would distract Rachel from worrying so much about her missing son. Rachel had been reluctant to go but after some insisting by the Captain she had finally relented and agreed to the break.

Starsky's dramatic rescue and subsequent hospitalization had occurred so quickly that Captain Dobey had decided to postpone notifying the two women until there was some definite news to give Rachel concerning her son's condition. She had been upset about the delay in notifying her that her missing son had been found but she understood the reasoning behind it. Her son was alive and that was all that mattered to her.

Edith pulled into the hospital parking lot and stopped in front of the main entrance to let Rachel out of the car. She promised to return when Rachel was ready to leave, all she had to do was call Edith and let her know. Rachel nodded her thanks and watched as Edith drove away. The Dobeys were good people and she was grateful that her David had such good friends in his life here in California.

Rachel bypassed the information desk and took an elevator to the ICU. She stepped out into a heavy silence broken only by the beeping of machines and the soft trend of the nurses shoes on the highly polished floors. The atmosphere was filled with the sense of a carefully controlled chaos that could erupt into a frantic activity at any moment. She walked down the hall to room 513 and stepped quietly through the doorway.

The lights in the room were dimmed but she could still see her son's bruised and battered body lying on the bed that dominated the middle of the room. Hutch was slumped in a recliner sitting beside the bed, tossing restlessly in his sleep. A crumbled blanket lay on the floor beside him.

Hutch's eyes suddenly snapped open as if he sensed her presence in the room. His right hand immediately snaked under his jacket for his gun until he recognized Rachel standing there backlit by the light from the hallway.

"Rachel," he said in a groggy voice as he struggled to his feet. He dry wiped his face with one hand to try and chase the cobwebs out of his head. A flush crept up his face as he remembered that he had forgotten to call her when they found Starsky. "I'm sorry…I should have called you…I forgot…."

"It's alright. Harold called me this morning. I wish I could have been here sooner but it couldn't be helped under the circumstances."

"It's my fault," Hutch said sheepishly "But, I didn't want to tell you about the search unless we found him…and when we did…all I could think of was getting him to the hospital as soon as possible…"

"Hush now," Rachel said firmly "It's not your fault. David's told me all about your guilt trips and the last thing you need to do right now is feel guilty about anything." She smiled at the tall blond affectionately. "You look like you could use something to eat and a cup of coffee. Why don't you go do what you need to do? I'll be here with David while you're gone."

Hutch hesitated. He was reluctant to leave his injured partner's care to anyone else. Then he kicked himself mentally. Rachel was Starsky's mother. She had every right to be there too. He smiled faintly and nodded. He cast one last look at his motionless partner on his way out of the room.

Rachel stepped closer to the bed and gently reached out rub the back of her son's right hand. She didn't want to disturb any of the tubes or IV's that snaked around his body. The machines surrounding the bed frightened her but she knew they were there to help care for her son. She was reassured by the warm of the skin beneath her touch. She frowned. His skin felt a little too warm. She leaned down and gently planted a kiss on Starsky's forehead. As she suspected, he had a fever but it didn't seem to be dangerously high.

"It's alright, Davi…mama's here." she whispered. Wrapping her fingers around his fingers, she began to softly sing a childhood lullaby that she used to sing to both of her sons at bedtime.

Hutch took the opportunity to go to the bathroom. After splashing some cold water on his face, he made use of the facilities. He sighed softly as the pressure on his bladder was finally relieved. He left the men's room and went in search of the staff break room where he knew he would find vending machines. He couldn't bring himself to go clear down to the basement to the hospital cafeteria. He couldn't be that far from his partner's side. Not yet.

Finding the break room at the end of the hall, he got himself a cup of coffee and a stale tuna fish sandwich. As an afterthought, he added an apple for later. As he turned to leave, a older nurse with a lined face but a warm smile entered the room.

"I'm sorry," Hutch apologized "I just wanted some coffee and something to eat."

"That's quite all right," the nurse told him with a smile "That's what the machines are here for. You're with the young man who was brought in last night aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. He's my partner."

"That's right. Someone said you were police officers."

"I really need to get back to him."

"I understand. You're welcome to grab a cup of coffee or something to eat anytime you need to. The doctors here are quite good. Your friend will be fine."

"I'm sure he will," Hutch said, his mind already drifting back to his partner's side. He left the room and hurried back down the hall to Starsky's room. He paused in the doorway, smiling faintly as he listened to Rachel's tender lullaby. He may not understand the words but he understood music. It truly was a universal language.

Watching her comforting her son in the age old way of mother's everywhere, Hutch felt a sudden longing for the comfort of his own mother's arms. He smiled and shook his head to rid himself of such a foolish thought. His own mother was nothing like Rachel Starsky. She'd always been too busy with her meetings and charity events to give her son many hugs when he was growing up.

Suddenly a shrill alarm sounded on one of the machines. Immediately the room began to fill with medical staff responding to the alarm. Rachel stood up and stepped aside to give them room to work, her frightening blue eyes seeking out Hutch's immediately. Hutch hurried to her side and slid a comforting arm around her waist, the two of them literally forgotten as the staff worked feverishly over the bed where Starsky lay.


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER 16**

"What's taking so long?" Rachel asked in a frightened voice "Why won't they tell us something?"

"They will," Hutch reassured her "Just as soon as they have something to tell us." His own voice was strained as he struggled to control his own anxiety and fear. They had been ushered out of Starsky's room while the medical staff evaluated his condition. The last image burned into their minds was the blaring of the alarm and the pale face with blue tinged lips of the man lying on the bed.

Hutch knew from bitter experience how hard the waiting could be. He had found himself waiting more times than he cared to remember throughout the years. And he knew that Starsky had been in the same position when their roles were reversed. Still, it never got any easier. Normally, Hutch would be alone in his vigil. In their line of work, they received far too many injuries, both minor and serious, to burden their families every time one of them had to spend some time in the hospital for a non-life threatening condition. Unfortunately, for them abductions, beatings, stabbings, shootings, and car accidents were the norm. Just part of their normal routine.

"I've always been so afraid of losing him just like I did his father." Rachel said as she sank down into a chair. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes as she looked at Hutch with a deep sadness etched on her face. "I used to pray that he'd do something else with his life and not follow in Michael's footsteps. But, it's in his blood…he wouldn't be happy doing anything else."

"I couldn't do this job without him," Hutch told her with a gentle smile.

"He needs you just as much as you need him. I thank god that he has someone like you watching out for him."

"I didn't do a very good job watching out for him this time."

"Don't do that…you found him in time…that's all that matters." Rachel scolded him quietly. They both looked up expectantly as a weary looking doctor wearing wrinkled scrubs entered the room.

"Are you here for David Starsky?" he asked

"Yes, I'm his mother and this is his partner." Rachel said as she rose to her feet to face the doctor. "Is my son still alive?"

"I'm Doctor Stewart," the doctor introduced himself with a curt nod. "Your son did go into cardiac arrest but we were able to resuscitate him and he is resting quietly."

"Is he going to be all right?" Rachel demanded, asking the only question that mattered to her or to Hutch.

"We'll be running some tests but I don't believe there was any damage to the heart itself. The cardiac arrest was brought on by the damage to his body and shock. We will be monitoring him closely for the next seventy two hours."

"May we see him?"

"It would be best if you waited till later this afternoon. You both look like you could use some rest yourselves."

"I'm not going anywhere." Hutch said with a stubborn tilt of his chin.

"Neither am I." Rachel said in an equally determined voice. "We will be waiting right here. Please have someone let us know as soon as we can see him."

The doctor sighed heavily but didn't argue. He turned and walked away leaving the two of them alone. Hutch sank down in a chair beside Rachel and buried his face in his hands as the stress of the last forty eight hours caught up with him. Rachel moved to his side and let a comforting hand rest gently on his shoulder as he struggled to regain his composure.

"Shhh…" Rachel soothed him much as she would have her son in the same situation. "He's going to be fine. My David is strong…just like his father."

Hutch raised his head and looked at her with a watery smile. This woman embodied the motherly qualities that Hutch had been deprived of as a child, qualities she shared freely with Hutch at times like this. "I need to call the Captain." He said as he rose to his feet. "Would you like some coffee or something to eat?" Rachel started to shake her head then changed her mind and linked her arm with Hutch.

"That's sounds wonderful," she said "You look like you could use something to eat too so you can keep me company."

Hutch smiled faintly as he let Rachel lead him out of the room. He recognized the tactic she had used as one Starsky himself frequently used to get his way with Hutch. Hutch could see so much of his partner in the woman beside him. They both had the same inner strength and flattering charm that Hutch was so familiar with.

Hutch paused outside of the cafeteria to use the pay phone while Rachel continued on into the cafeteria to find them a table. As she disappeared through the archway, Hutch dug some coins out of his pocket as he picked up the receiver. Depositing the correct amount of change, he dialed the direct number for Captain Dobey's office.

"Dobey," the Captain's gruff voice growled in his ear.

"Cap, its Hutch."

"Hutchinson, how is your partner doing?'

"He went into cardiac arrest but the doctors were able to resuscitate him."

"Is he going to be all right?" Dobey asked, his concern for one half of his favored team of detectives clearly showing in his voice.

"The doctor doesn't think there was any damage to his heart. He's resting right now. The doctor thinks it was brought on by the trauma he's been through." Hutch explained

"Thank god for that. You tell that partner of yours that we're all praying for him. I'll try to get to the hospital later today to check on him for myself."

"I know he'll appreciate that. Can you let everybody there know how he's doing?"

"Of course I will. And I'll let everyone here know that he's not up to visitors just yet but that you'll let me know when he is."

"Thanks, Cap. I'll keep you posted." Hutch said. He hung up and went into the cafeteria to join Rachel. He could use a cup of coffee and a salad sounded .


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER 17**

**A/N: Sorry about the delay in posting. RL has taken priority the last few days.**

"What do you mean he's in a coma?" Hutch demanded loudly. He ignored the sharp glance from the nurse at the desk warning him to lower his voice. He glared at the doctor waiting impatiently for an answer to his question.

"I'm sorry," the doctor tried to explain calmly. "It happens sometimes. All we can do is wait and see if your partner wakes up."

"You mean _**when**_ he wakes up! Hutch clarified, emphasizing his words with a poke of his finger to the doctor's shoulder.

"Detective, please," the doctor said patiently "You have to understand. There's still so much we don't know about how the brain functions. Your partner has been through a traumatic experience and his body and his mind both need time to heal. This coma is his mind's way of doing that."

"Then you'd better get used to seeing my face," Hutch said sharply. "Because I'm not going _**anywhere**_ until he opens his eyes."

The doctor nodded his head and sighed heavily, unwilling to antagonize the very large, very angry man in front of him. In the past few days since David Starsky had been admitted under his care, the doctor had quickly learned not to cross the fiercely protective, blond half of the partnership.

Satisfied that the doctor had understood him, Hutch turned and stalked down the hall to Starsky's room. Rachel was sitting by his side, holding his hand and talking to him in s soft, soothing voice. She looked up as Hutch entered the room, her unspoken questions clear in her worried gaze.

"The doctor said he's in a coma and that all we can do is wait and see." Hutch bit off as he slumped into the chair on the opposite side of the bed.

"Oh, dear," Rachel said in a choked voice. "My poor Davi…." She sighed softly as she gently rubbed her thumb over the knuckles on Starsky's left hand. "I have to go home in a few days but I don't want to leave him…not like this."

"You do what you need to do," Hutch told her quietly "I'll take good care of him if you have to leave."

"I know you will," Rachel said with a hint of a smile. "That's the one thing I know I can always count on. And that means a lot to me." She looked at Hutch, tears shimmering in

her eyes. "I had to send him away to keep him safe and it took a long time for him to forgive me for that and to understand why I did it. I missed out on so much of his life…his first prom, his high school graduation…I had to share those things long distance." Her eyes took on a distant look as she remembered the past. "Then he decided to become a cop…just like his father…and he met you. I knew from the first time he told me about you, that you would always be there for him. And I was grateful for that…that he had someone he could depend on, someone to watch out for him. I know that he's been hurt a lot more than he's told me about…and I know why…but, I always knew that you were there for him even if I couldn't be."

"And I always will be," Hutch reassured her.

"You're more of a brother to him than Nicky ever has been or ever will be." Her mouth tightened into a thin line. "I know what Nicohli has become…and I know that part of that is my fault. But, after I sent David away, Nicky was all I had left…and he was so young when his papa died…he really didn't understand or grieve, not the way that David did."

"You can't blame yourself for Nicky's actions. He made his own choices in life and followed his own path."

"Nicky and David are nothing alike. They never have been. David has always been the responsible one…the one who had to grow up too fast. Nicky has never had to grow up, not the way that David did. And now it's too late."

Hutch knew that Rachel loved both of her sons unconditionally. She was a shining example of a mother whose love knew no bounds when it came to her children, making sacrifices in her life that no mother should ever have to make. There was no love lost between Hutch and the youngest Starsky son, but he did respect Rachel Starsky and he genuinely cared for the woman.

His gaze drifted to the figure lying in the bed. He could almost convince himself that Starsky was just sleeping. Except for one thing. Even in his sleep, Starsky was never completely still. He made random movements, turning from side to side, stretching out or curling up in a fetal position. Sometimes his legs would jerk or kick sporadically and his facial expressions would change if he was dreaming. Sometimes he snored and at other times, he talked in his sleep. He was never as still as the man on the bed, the only movement the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

The waiting never got any easier. They were so connected that Hutch could not only sense when Starsky was in danger or hurt, he could even feel his pain. Although his pain was more emotional than physical, it hurt just as much. He knew in his heart that Starsky experienced the same thing when their situations were reversed.

Hutch had never been able to analyze their relationship. It just was. All he knew was that, over the years, their lives had become so intertwined that sometimes Hutch didn't know where he ended and Starsky began. He could not imagine his life without Starsky in it, standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder, back to back. There had been far too many close calls over the years. Each one terrified Hutch, the thought of Starsky dying tearing him apart a little piece at a time. He knew that someday the inevitable would happen. One of them would leave this life and the other one would be left behind. Hutch knew if it was him that was left behind; he would find a way to join his partner instead of facing a cold, uncertain future alone.

Rachel stayed most of the day, leaving just after the aides passed the supper trays. Hutch could see the weariness in her step. Sometimes it was easy to forget that she was a sixty-two year old woman with a mild heart condition. Hutch's own mother was the same age but looked much younger thanks to her plastic surgeon. She was constantly popping pills for one thing or another, terrified of growing old. She complained about non-existent aches and pains while Rachel never talked about her health.

As the hours passed into darkness, Hutch's eyes grew heavy. His head slumped forward against his chest as he finally slept. But, it was not a peaceful sleep as a part of his mind remained awake, alert for any signs of distress from his partner.


	18. Chapter 18

**CHAPTER 18**

Three days passed without any change in Starsky's condition. Despite her own misgivings and a mother's instinct, Rachel was forced to return to New York at the end of the week. Hutch promised to call her every day and keep her posted on Starsky's condition. Progress reports from the doctor remained the same. There was nothing anyone could do except wait and see when or if Starsky woke up.

Waiting had never come easy to Hutch, especially when it concerned Starsky's well being. He knew that the medical staff resented his constant questions and demands about Starsky's care. But, Hutch didn't care what they thought. Taking care of Starsky was his job and his number one priority.

He sat by Starsky's bedside, leaving only when the nurses needed to do some medical procedure, or when the need to eat or tend to his own personal needs finally forced him from the room. Hour after hour, he talked to his unconscious partner until his throat was raw and his voice barely above a whisper. He slept only when his own exhaustion forced his weary body to comply.

Even then, his sleep was restless and uneasy, haunted by dreams where Starsky seemed to be trying to communicate with him.

"_I'm still here, Blondie…" Hutch could clearly hear the familiar, beloved voice in his mind. "I just can't seem to wake up…"_

"_You will…you will. You just have to try harder," Hutch answered automatically_

"_Something's wrong…I can feel it. My head hurts…"_

"_The doctors ran all their tests and they said they didn't find anything unusual."_

"_Then tell them to run them again…something's wrong and if they don't fix it…I won't be able to hang around much longer…"_

Hutch awoke with a start, his heart pounding and his face covered with perspiration. It took a few moments for him to get his bearings and realize that he had been dreaming. Still, it had seemed so real, as if he were really talking to Starsky. He vowed to corner the doctor as soon as the sun came up and tell him he wanted all the tests on Starsky repeated immediately.

"I'm still here, buddy…" he told his unconscious friend. "And I heard you last night…I'm gonna make sure that the doctor does those tests again and he damn well better find something this time or I won't be responsible for my actions."

Strangely comforted by his promise, Hutch laid his head down on the bed beside Starsky and closed his eyes, drifting back into a more peaceful slumber.

Dr. Stewart looked at Hutch with a frown. "I don't see any point in redoing the tests. I told you they didn't show anything unusual."

"Run them again," Hutch demanded "Or I'll find another doctor who will! You missed something!"

"Very well," the doctor said in a resigned tone "But, it's an unnecessary expense. His medical insurance may contest the additional billing."

"Fuck the insurance…just do it!" Hutch growled "I'll pay for the damn tests myself if I have to."

Hutch turned and walked back into Starsky's room, confident that his demands would be met. Within the hour, the tests began. Hutch waited impatiently for the results, pacing the floor in Starsky's room anxiously. It was late in the afternoon before Starsky was finally brought back to his room and it would be the next day before the doctor had the results. Once more, the endless waiting began.

It was shortly after seven the next morning when Doctor Stewart entered the room and approached Hutch cautiously.

"You found something." Hutch said. It was not a question but a statement of fact.

"I don't know how we missed it the first time," the doctor said almost apologetically. "There's a small bleed in his brain. We believe that's what is causing the coma."

"So fix it."

"He's scheduled for surgery this morning." The doctor informed him solemnly. "It could take awhile, so maybe you should go home and come back later this afternoon."

Hutch arched one eyebrow at the doctor and gave him a thin smile. "I'll be staying right here until I know how he's doing." Hutch said firmly.

"Very well," the doctor said, knowing there was no use arguing with the big blond once his mind was made up. e He turned and left the room leaving the two friends alone.

Hutch smiled as he turned his attention back to Starsky's comatose figure. "Hang in there, Gordo." He said "You'll be good as new real soon."

Hutch spent most of the day alternating between pacing the floor in Starsky's room, drinking gallons of rotgut coffee from the vending machine, and on the phone passing updates along to concerned friends and co-workers. Late that afternoon, he was joined in his vigil by Huggy Bear who brought several bags of food with him to tempt the fussy blond's non-existent appetite.

Finally, shortly after five o'clock that afternoon, a weary looking Doctor Stewart entered Starsky's room. Hutch immediately jumped to his feet and demanded, "How is he?"

"We stopped the bleed," the doctor told him with a tired smile. "And he's already starting to show signs of waking up."

"Thank God," Huggy said in a relieved tone. He could feel the tension in the air dissolve with the doctor's words and the first genuine smile in days tugged at Hutch's mouth.

"He'll be in recovery for the next hour or so and then he's be brought back to his room."

The doctor informed them.

"Thank you, Doc." Hutch said as the doctor nodded and left the room. Now that he knew that his partner was finally on his way to recovery, Hutch turned his attention to the spread that Huggy had thoughtfully provided.


	19. Chapter 19

**CHAPTER 19**

Hutch held his breath watching as Starsky's eyelids fluttered and then slowly opened to show a hint of sapphire blue.

"That's it, buddy…" he encouraged his groggy partner. "Let me see those eyes, Gordo…"

Starsky made a mumbled sound and then opened his eyes to look at Hutch with a puzzled frown.

"Hutch?' he said in a scratchy voice that was barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, pal…it's me." Hutch said with a huge grin. Starsky seemed a bit confused but he was alert and that was all that mattered to Hutch. He brushed his thumb across the back of Starsky's left hand, pleased when the fingers curled slightly in response to his touch. Another good sign. e

"Hospital?"

"Yeah, afraid so. But, you're going to be okay now…all you have to do is rest and get better."

"Shot?"

"Not exactly…just beat to hell and left for dead."

"Combs…" Starsky said as the pieces of his memory began to slowly fall into place. "He killed Tanner…and my dad…"

"Yeah. But, we got him and he's never gonna hurt anybody else again."

"What aren't you telling me?" Starsky asked in a weary voice as he looked into Hutch's eyes questioningly.

"He confessed to Tanner's murder and a lot of others over the years including your dad." Hutch told him "But, he may never stand trial for any of them. He's got terminal cancer. Dobey got his medical records to confirm it."

Starsky was silent for several long minutes as he absorbed this new information. Finally, he said, "At least we know now. The NYPD can finally close the case and Ma can have some closure."

"And she won't have to worry about him coming after you anymore."

"All those years…and I couldn't remember that I saw his face that day." Starsky said with a heavy sigh.

"It's not your fault. That was a pretty traumatic thing for any kid to have to go through."

"I can't imagine what Ma went through all those years worrying that he'd find me even after she sent me out here." He leaned his head back against the pillow. "Did you call her?"

"Yes, as soon as I knew you were going to be okay. She wants you to call her when you feel up to it."

"Later," Starsky said in a drowsy voice as his eyes grew heavy and the lids slowly closed as he fell back into a healing sleep.

Hutch smiled as he settled back in his chair to watch over his sleeping partner. Another close call. Another hospital stay. How many more times could they both press their luck and come out ahead? They were both getting older and it was taking longer for their bodies to heal. Maybe it was time to think about doing something besides working the streets. He decided to talk to Starsky about it when he was better and then they could explore their options together the way they did everything else.

Hutch settled back in his chair and let his own eyes close as his finally gave in to his exhaustion. For now, things were all right in his world and he intended to make sure that they stayed that way.

THE END

e HHHhHhh


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